


Legacy of the Precursors

by Drake_The_Traveller



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, Star Fox Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Gore, F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), Military, Psychological Trauma, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 37
Words: 346,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5839051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake_The_Traveller/pseuds/Drake_The_Traveller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A legacy is what man leaves behind, the culmination of past deeds laid down at his feet for those who come after. Noble Six walks in the footsteps of his predecessors, peerless warriors and tacticians. As a spartan, war is his birthright. As a man he has nothing to call his own, no legacy to his name. But after Reach's fall, he discovers just what inheritance he will leave behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unknown

Legacy of the Precursors

Prologue: Unknown

 

Reach burned.

In orbit, the smoldering hulks of over a hundred UNSC vessels and countless lost souls drifted amidst the cooling remains of the once seemingly indomitable super MAC defense grid. The orbital graveyard was not solely human however. They had not gone down without a fight. More than twice as many covenant ships decorated the void, a vengeful penance for humanity’s loss. The only ships still moving under their own power was the colossal covenant armada, systematically carving holy glyphs into the dying world’s surface with righteous zeal.

On the surface, surviving UNSC units were methodically slaughtered, swarmed by the relentless horde of an alien army, their crimson blood oozing into the charred earth. They did not fight in the hopes of victory. They fought to spite their genocidal adversaries, to sate their rage at the death of their planet, a performance carried out on countless worlds beforehand. This obscene glut of carnage was nothing new, just another act in an endless play of violent madness.

Cities were ruthlessly glassed and their inhabitants purged with sanctified high energy plasma. There was no pity for the defenseless masses, only virtuous fervor. Their extinction was the will of the prophets, their genocide, a welcomed boon to the goods. The eradication of humanity was for the great journey, an honorable pursuit.

Soon, there would be nothing left of the brave defenders, the remnants dying out, one by one.

Only one ship of note had managed to escape, a single autumn-class cruiser, where within the salvation of humanity resided.  

But its escape would not have been possible without sacrifice.

 

*****

 

Six sat in the gunner chair of the mass driver and gazed up into the polluted sky through a silver polarized visor, a heavy curtain of ashen clouds obscuring the outline of the cruiser he had saved as it breached the atmosphere.

The spartan-III carried a small, sad smile under his helmet as he slumped into this seat, his mission finally accomplished. He could see off in the distance, a swarm of phantoms as they leisurely neared his position with a casual finality, no doubt packed with elites frenzied with bloodlust, each hoping they would receive the honor of slaying one of the heretical human’s legendary demons.

Six supposed he should have felt fear at the promise of death. But in all honesty, all he felt was relief. Soon he would join the other members of Noble, wherever it was that death had taken them, and he would at last have his peace. At first he had despised them and Colonel Holland for forcing him to work with a team. The spartan was a lone wolf, always had been. But, as time and the war progressed, he had accepted them for what they were, his broken and mismatched family.

The spartan chuckled sardonically.

It had all been rather pointless hadn’t it?

All that comradery and false sense of hope…

In the end they all had died, and now he was on his own…just like old times.

The first phantom sped ahead of its brethren and arrived, disgorging its alien payload a level below him, the spartan watching disspationatly as a wave of elites made their way across, barking and gibbering in their alien tongue and gesturing threateningly with their weapons. But their words fell on deaf ears. Six had long ago shut off his translation software, tired of listening to their religious ravings.

Tired, that’s what he was, tired of death, tired of this one-sided war, tired of watching comrade after comrade fall, of clawing tooth and nail for scraps of success marred by tidal waves of defeat.

The pack of aliens stopped at the foot of the gun, glaring up at the spartan, barking challenges for him to come down and battle. It was quite possible that they were insulting his lineage and heritage, useless taunts all. They had murdered his family and glassed his homeworld before he had reached the age synonymous with his designation.

In response, the spartan sighed in resignation and calmly reached for the bandolier on his bulky breastplate, pulling the pin off a frag grenade and palming it in his gauntlet thoughtfully.

The spartan’s augmented mind allowed him to perceive time at a much slower rate, not for long, but enough for him to deliberate the merits of suicide.

The grenade slowly began to hiss out sparks and a faint whisper of smoke.

On one hand he would be spiting the enemy and their foolish desire for trial by combat. On the other, he felt it a waste of his value.

The seconds slowly counted down.

On the other, it would be more productive for him to utilize his last moments to slaughter as many of the enemy as he could.

The grenade began to shake in his grip.

_‘No. There are better ways to die.’_

Six tossed the smoking frag down to the squad of elites and slipped out of the gunner’s chair. An explosion thundered moments later and he heard the alien’s growl in pain and rage.

The spartan leapt down and crushed one under his boot as he unslung his assault rifle and emptied the clip at one of its comrades. It took him little time and effort to wipe out the small group of elites.

He had become quite proficient at murder.

Walking away from the brutal aftermath, he made way out of the complex and into the mountains. An idea had occurred to him, a plan he recalled having used once before with desirable results.

There indeed were better ways to die. The big man had given him inspiration.

A slipspace bomb ought to be sufficient. 

Operation: UPPER CUT, where they had destroyed a covenant supercarrier. Such a plan could work again, especially if he had no expectations of survival. He had helped Kat create the makeshift device and could replicate the same procedure on his own. The only problem was, where did one get a Shaw-Fujikawa slipspace drive?

There were most likely none left. But perhaps one of the wrecks up in space had one that still functioned. He would have to head up their anyways to deploy the bomb. He remembered that there was a spare YSS Sabre in Sword Base. He had seen it in the dock beside the one he and Jorge had used. Six just hoped it would still be there.

Still, it was a long walk from where he was to the facility, and the other phantoms would soon arrive. He had to act fast. Six scanned his surroundings, scouting the small deserted outpost just under and around the mass driver.

 Lying keeled to its side, he found a warthog a few meters distant. He flipped the car and gave it a quick once over. The rear axle was fucked and the hydrogen engine’s casing was cracked and leaking, but it would get him to where he needed to be.

The spartan keyed the ignition and gunned the engine, speeding away from the mass driver and the approaching covenant forces.

The drive was longer than anticipated, he having to duck countless covenant patrols and weave through plains of crackling glass. It gave him plenty of time to see the enemy’s handiwork. Off in the distance lay the broken and jagged spires of New Alexandria. The covenant had thoroughly annihilated the once beautiful city, taking great pleasure in its destruction.

All that remained were the skeletons of the city’s high rises, Reach’s looming tombstones. The rest of the metropolis had been slagged to glass, nothing but twisted steel and scorched bone.

Thankfully, the city’s forsaken ruins soon disappeared behind the shattered mountains and the abandoned shell of sword base materialized on the horizon. Six could see the remains of their last major battle weeks prior, broken vehicles and bones garbed in standard UNSC combat armor, still fiercely clutching their weapons in skeletal grips in defense of the fallen fortress, their loyalty stretching beyond death.

The warthog gave its last cough and spluttered to a stop a kilometer from the base’s doors. The spartan climbed out and patted the car on the hood, thanking it for getting him this far.

Once inside, Six walked its deserted corridors and traced a path through memory to the launch bay.

Things had changed, a matter of days ago, he had come here with his squad, all still alive and well. And now, he alone marched through its barren halls.

The spartan paused as he came across a set of large steel doors, remembering that the armory was down that way.

Should he bother? Was there even a point in arming up?

He thought it over before he shrugged.

Why the hell not? There was no one left to use them anyways.

Six went inside the armory. The room was mostly empty, but there was enough for a duffle bag of munitions and he found a sniper rifle with a few spare clips lying discarded in the corner. Tallying that with his rifle, shotgun, and magnum he had a decent arsenal. On his way out, the spartan decided to acquire a few covenant weapons as well. After all, there were plenty of corpses to take from. He took a full plasma repeater from an elite’s dead hands and found one of their needle rifles beside the corpse of a jackal, placing them both inside the bag.

With his equipment set the next step was finding the Sabre.

He entered the launch pad and was surprised to see that the Sabre was still actually there, although there had been a firefight nearby and it suffered some splash damage, small patches of slagged hull scarred by stray plasma. After a quick checkup he discovered it was thankfully still space worthy so he loaded up the duffle in the small supply hatch under the cockpit and climbed inside, fitting his bulk in the pilot seat.

It was fortunate that the original design for the sabre had accounted for a spartan sized individual, having the supersoldiers in mind for their use.

The ceiling’s hydraulic doors were warped wide open and the Sabre was already hooked up to the launch system so he had no need of doing anything else.

The spartan fiddled with the sabre’s controls and prepped the fighter for launch, starting up the engines once he was satisfied with its performance.

The ship rumbled powerfully underneath him and he activated the multi-stage rocket assembly responsible for allowing the fighter to quickly break the atmosphere, launching his craft into the air and hurtling through the sky.

After breaching orbit, the spartan did a quick search with the Sabre’s onboard Intel system to find the closest UNSC ship, a frigate by the name of _Battleborn_ , a few hundred kilometers distant. It also warned him of the massive covenant fleet circumnavigating the planet. It was fortunate that they were preoccupied with glassing. Otherwise he suspected they would have noticed his launch. He would have to be careful to remain undetected. Time was needed to get the bomb ready before he would be able to deploy it.

Six shut down everything for his ship but the engine, slowly coasting across the blackened void to the frigate. It took hours, but he brought his fighter level with the frigate without drawing any attention. It would be easy to grab the drive, the _Battleborn_ had taken a hit to the portside, a gaping twisted crater that dug into its heart.

He checked his MJOLNIR’s HUD and made sure it was sealed before opening the cockpit and floating out, using his armor’s thrusters to enter through the breach. Corpses in uniforms and scattered junk drifted in the zero-g environment with the spartan as he attempted to find ways past sealed bulkheads and reach the drive core.

His enhanced strength allowed him to peel open a crack in the last door and he slipped inside.

The drive was…bigger than he remembered.

Six was fairly confident he would not be able to fit it in his Sabre. He would have preferred to use a Shiva tactical nuke, but he had checked the bridge logs and discovered all the ones on this ship had been expended in the battle and he was certain it was the same for all the others. This was his only recourse.

There had to be some way to get it done, but how?

The spartan took a few minutes to puzzle out a solution.

Perhaps if he managed to somehow, reduce its size? The yield would definitely be affected, but at least he would be able to use it, or he hoped so anyways.  

After much thought, he was able to take the center of the drive out. Almost immediately, his suit began to warn him of the potentially lethal amounts of radiation emitting from the core, or at least it would be without his MJOLNIR. The only affect he suffered was an occasional burst of disruptive static across his HUD, the thick plating and shields acting as a buffer against the harmful rays.

In order for the bomb to work he had to head up to the bridge and scavenge a small monitor and some other electronics to jury-rig a display and attach it to the device. Using the rest of the components, he configured the drive core to overload after a timed countdown.

If it all went according to plan, the device would open an enormous slipspace rupture inside the ship. What happened next was anyone’s guess. UNSC vessels had been lost in the tides of slipspace before, never to return. Physics had no real hold in that realm of threaded dimensions, and anything could and would be possible. The drive was responsible for directing ships through the warped realty, but, when used as a bomb…

He shook his head slightly.

The spartan was not afraid of death or the unknown. Such human frailties had been ripped from his soul. The only fear he still carried was the fear of failure.

Six hooked up the last connecting wire and booted the screen, using the core’s energy to power the circuitry.

He would not fail. 

The finished product was about the size and shape of a SPNKR rocket launcher and a thousand times deadlier. Six mag-locked it to his back and boosted his way out of the frigate, climbing back into his Sabre and gliding off with his lethal creation.

All he needed now was a target, preferably something small enough for the bomb to destroy and sufficiently secluded from the rest of the fleet so that reinforcements would not come in time to stop him.

_‘Something like that…’_ Six spied a covenant corvette that had just jumped in, lingering at the edge of the system, probably a late arrival to the fight or perhaps a messenger vessel.

The timing was suspiciously convenient.

Whatever, he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Covenant corvettes were naturally unshielded, making it easier for him to find entry. It would also carry a smaller contingent of crew and strike craft, a prime target.

He would have to be fast, get inside, clear out the hanger, and activate the bomb, a quick and easy fitting conclusion to his tale.

The Sabre blasted towards the target vessel and Six flooded power into the offline systems, ready for a fight.

The corvette’s commander noticed the singular ship approaching but must have disregarded it as only a handful of seraphs launched to intercept.

That was a mistake.

Six speared the Sabre directly towards the teardrop shaped alien strike craft and waited for the welcoming tone of a lock-on.

Meanwhile, the lead fighter directed a salvo of plasmatic energy arcing towards him and soon the others followed suit.

He banked hard to the right and spun the Sabre on its Y-axis, dodging the plasma bolts and hearing the telltale ring of a target lock. His thumb pressed down on the flight stick’s topmost button and the hatches on either side of the sabre’s hull peeled open and belched out a quintet of medusa missiles. The heat seeking rockets sought out each of the four craft and no matter how hard they juked and weaved, all of them impacted their targets.

The seraphs shield’s still held, hanging by a thread, but now he was able to mop them up with a fusillade of shells from the 30mm rotary cannons. The high caliber shots pocketing their thin hulls and ripping them apart in a bright flash of energy.

More fighters launched and he was forced to weave through trails of enemy fire as the corvette’s anti-fighter defenses activated, peppering the space around him with a wall of energized gases.

 But Noble Six had been a pilot in the original sabre program, the best. No one had ever managed to outfly him, certainly not any of these covenant bastards.

Another seraph was reduced to scrap as its shields folded under a stream of cannon fire, the doomed fighter spiraling off into the void and detonating violently.

Seconds later, a small burst of plasma splashed against the sabre’s shields, dropping them dangerously.

Six cut the power to the engines and sharply pulled back on the stick, throwing its nose towards what he perceived as up.

The pair of seraphs on his tail shot past, the pilots taken by surprise with the sudden trick.

They were not given time to recover as he dove down on them, sending each a pair of missiles as a gift, the explosives slamming into their afts. Both ships lost their rear ends as they were sheared off in the blast, venting atmosphere as the tumbled away.

Sweeping up the remaining fighters he turned back and threaded through the corvette’s fire and rushed to the hanger. 

As he neared he could see the covenant soldiers inside, watching as he headed straight towards them.

It would be a hectic landing.

Six flipped the thrusters on the side of the sabre and put them on reverse at full power, slowing his velocity considerably. Instead of smashing against the far wall of the hanger, he dropped to the deck and grinded across in a shower of sparks.

Before the ship stopped moving he popped the canopy and leapt out, spraying his surroundings in a rain of lead vomiting forth from the muzzle of his rifle.

The nose of his sabre mulched a squad of grunts too slow to get out of the way and gently came to a stop just in front of the wall. 

Six hit the deck at a run, sprinting to take cover beside a tall purple container, a barrage of plasma splattering the deck around him courtesy of the angry aliens littering the hanger.

Slowly but surely, the spartan determinedly cleared the hanger of enemies, grunts ran chaotically as their elite masters crumpled under his assault. The jackals had more discipline and were harder to remove. The survivors had interlocked their wrist mounted shields and were steadily advancing on him, keeping the spartan in cover with a continuous stream of plasma bolts.

He needed to destroy their cohesion.

Six risked a brief glance out of cover and spied a fuel canister sitting beside a banshee. The potential explosive device was propped near the phalanx, but not close enough. He needed them to be a little closer.

He kept them distracted with occasional bursts from his rifle as he waited for them to get within blast range.

When he saw a clawed foot land next to the container he lobbed a frag over. The grenade soared into the air and hit the ground a meter too short and rolled the rest of the distance, the jackals unaware of the trap they had just unwittingly walked into.

Six’s visor polarized and there was a loud roar as the fuel canister erupted, a geyser of purple flames shooting into the air. The eruption of kinetic force flung the phalanx apart and the banshee had burst, adding to the general chaos.

Using the opening, he stepped out of cover, quickly and efficiently cleaning up the stragglers.

The hanger absent of enemies for the moment, he pulled the bomb off his back and placed it on the ground. Six was not a religious man, but he prayed to any god he knew that this bomb would work.

He set the timer for twenty minutes and prepared to buckle down. He didn’t just want to let the bomb go off, he intended to take as many of the covenant as he could before it did. Twenty minutes should give him some time to work.

The spartan rounded up some supply containers and used them to create a fortress of sorts, giving him a full range of cover.

Hastily, he went under the sabre and opened the bottom compartment. Rummaging in the duffle bag inside,  he took out the shotgun and a few grenades, loading and propping the gun against a container and neatly lining up the frags beside it.

As he slapped a new clip into his MA5B, he heard a door open across the hanger.

It was time.

An alien howl announced the arrival of the corvette’s security forces, a gold clad elite and a squad of veterans accompanied by heavily armed grunts, thirty odd in total.

Six propped his rifle on a container and squeezed the trigger, pelting the doorway with armor piercing rounds. The elite’s steadily advanced, the bullets pinging of their shields as the grunts set up a plasma turret.

The spartan concentrated his fire on the lead alien warrior, but just as its shields gave out it dived into cover. Quickly, he swapped targets and hosed down one of its underlings.

The sangheili dropped, a multitude of craters in its armor leaking a steady flow of purple blood. 

Six staggered backwards and hunkered down, his shields shattering against a fusillade of blue energy.

As he waited for them to recharge, he heard hooves fast approaching and let go of his rifle, grabbing the shotgun by his side.

He emerged from cover and leveled the barrel of the scattergun a foot away from an elite’s mandibled maw.

The weapon barked and belched a cloud of gunsmoke, the buckshot blasting a crater in the alien’s skull the size of an M9.

Six racked the pump and chambered another round, swerving it to knock-back another approaching elite. Its chest reduced to a gory mess of broken plates and rent flesh.

The gold commander had recovered by then and reeled an arm back to lob a flaming blue sphere in his direction.

Six focused fire on the elite’s limb and severed it with a precise torrent of bullets.

The alien growled and clutched its oozing stump, watching as the hand still clutching the explosive dropped to its hooved feet. Before it could articulate its rage, the plasma grenade unleashed its payload, vaporizing the elite and reducing it into a fain purple mist.

A stream of plasma flooded towards him and the spartan hid behind his crates, now pinned by the grunts manning the heavy weapon.

Snatching a fragmentation grenade from the ground he hurled it across the hanger, destroying the gun and mutilating the unfortunate gunners.

The lapse in combat gave him enough time to risk a glance at the timer on the slipspace bomb.

**7:39**

Seven and a half minutes, he had to hold on for just seven more minutes.

The spartan watched as the doors on the opposite end opened and a hunter pair rushed in, the assault cannons grafted to their right arms glowing a sickly green.

Six sighed.

_‘Shit…’_

With a warbling roar, one of them charged, a solid beam of emerald death surging towards him.

Six abandoned his now useless defenses and slid under the ray, the close proximity alone dropping his shields rapidly as it crashed into the hastily erected barricade, blowing it apart.

Rolling, he passed the first hunter and fired his shotgun at the second, the pellets deflecting off of its colossal tower shield.

The spartan was forced to evade once more as the hulking alien lowered its shoulder in an attempt to ram him. If the blow had connected, its razor sharp spines would have shredded through his thick titanium plates and carved deep into his shoulder.

Angered by the miss, the hunter whipped its shield and slapped him into a moored phantom, imprinting the spartan’s figure in its hull. Six felt a sharp stab of pain as a few of his ribs cracked and he coughed hoarsely, a thin film of blood splattering across his visor.

Six hit the hanger’s deck hard and painfully forced himself to stand, reaching for his shotgun.

He was not dead yet.

The spartan let the first hunter charge again and vaulted over it, jamming the barrel of his gun into the red-orange worm flesh of its exposed back and pulled the trigger.

The hunter howled in agony and dropped to its knees, a fountain of orange viscera bursting from its chest, the pile of wriggling worms slowly stilling in rigor mortis.

With a rage filled snarl, the spartan stepped onto its kneeling legs and clamped both of his gauntlets on the hunter’s head, giving a sharp twist and pulling with all his might, ripping the armored mass of intelligent larvae from the rest of its colony.

The damage was too much to bear and the creature expired, moaning softly as its armored frame sagged heavily to the deck amid a twitching pool of what counted as its lifeblood.

Instantly, an eerie mournful shriek echoed from its bond brother, the hunter enraged at the death of its sibling, having felt their connection as it was brutally snuffed.

The incensed gestalt collective swung about wildly like a petulant infant the size of a battle tank. Banshees flew without pilots and a phantom was wrecked by its potent fury.

Six attempted to retreat from the insane creature, but it would not allow the murderer of its bond brother to escape. Faster than even a spartan could run, the massive mgalekgolo fired its cannon at the supersoldier’s retreating heels and blasted him into the air, the heat was intense enough to sear the flesh along his spine as the thermal energy phased through his armor.

He roughly collided with the remains of his barricade and crashed into the slipspace bomb.

The screen fizzed out and he felt a section of the cover give way under his weight.

What damage was caused he remained oblivious to as he was far too busy scrabbling for a weapon. His gloved hand found the grip of his rifle and he rolled onto his injured back, bouncing ineffective rounds of the lumbering mountain smashing its way towards him.

Beside him, the bomb started to glow with a muted blue light and the deck trembled beneath him. Radiation warnings screamed in his helmet and the spartan began to feel nauseous.

As the hunter continued its advance, intent on splattering the spartan against the deck with its shield, the hanger shuddered violently, toppling it.

Six’s HUD was overrun with static and his shields were promptly sapped by some unknown force. The spartan’s body shuddered as he felt every molecule of his very being vibrating at an inconceivable rate.

Suffering from similar effects, the hunter squealed, its colony sloughing off its body in puddled clumps, literally shaking itself to death.

Six clawed away from the slipspace device, trying to escape the agonizing sensation of his body tearing itself apart. He likened the pain to the augmentation procedure he had undergone ten years ago, his nerves aflame with napalm and his bones like shattered glass.

In an agonized crawl, he dug his gauntlets into the deck and doggedly forced his way to the sabre. It had better radiation shielding than his MJOLNIR and even in his pain hazed state, Six knew it was his only chance of survival. The spartan’s mind was in disarray, but his instincts simply would not allow him to give up and die. They urged him onwards, clinging to anything that might keep him alive to keep fighting. They did not care that this was to be his final act.

Driven by primordial instinct alone, Six latched onto the sabre’s wing and tugged himself inside, closing the canopy and throwing the shields into overdrive.

As his awareness began to fade, he heard the bomb detonate violently with a rush of white noise, bludgeoning him into dark oblivion.

His sabre was tosses about like a child’s toy and sent careening out of the now doomed corvette and into the fickle tides of slipspace. The covenant ship collapsing in upon itself and imploding, the shockwave further throwing the spartan’s fighter into mystery.

If he had been conscious, all Noble Six would have seen was a wall of strangling darkness blanketing his tiny ship.

The sabre drifted in the timeless expanse of spacial disorder for what could have been an eternity or only a few moments. There was no real meaning of time in a realm that defied all understanding and reason.

But a certain event far off in the future, involving an arc and a malfunctioning halo array sent a massive slipspace wake through the dimensions, shaking the small fighter craft out of its time-locked slumber and jetting into parts unknown.

 

*****

 

Private Darwin Ford swiveled idly in his chair, fatigued eyes scanning the monitor of the listening post’s radar for the thousandth time that day. And unsurprisingly for the thousandth time, saw that no unknown contacts had neared Corneria’s gravity well.  

All was quite as usual since the Lylat wars had ended. Venom hadn’t made so much as a peep in months and the system was slowly recovering from the fierce conflict.

The husky ran a paw through his short mane and yawned at the monotony of his posting.

He had joined the army hoping to see action, but he had been too late to participate in the war and now he was here, toiling away on an orbital station above the capital world. It wasn’t what he had been hoping for but at least the uniform made up for it. There were quite a few hot numbers down planetside that loved a dog in green.

His next rotation off station was in a week and he was eager to stretch his legs.

Perhaps he would be lucky enough to run into the Starfox Team. He had heard that they were down on Corneria, relaxing after their successful raid against a few pirate forces. He also heard that a few beautiful ladies had joined up recently, longtime friends of the famous vulpine himself, the lucky bastard.

You never know, he might just get to meet them. Wouldn’t that be something?

The canine’s eyes watched as the green line made another rotation in its unending circle, but a faint beep made him flinch in surprise.

It had never done that before!

Darwin’s gut clenched as he saw the unassuming white blip hovering at the edge of the screen’s arc, just within radar range.

“Oh shit….”

His paws clattered away at the keyboard in front of him as the grid section with the anomaly was pulled up to superimpose the entire screen. He ran a scan of the unknown and examined the readings as they were displayed.

**Composition-Unknown alloys**

**Classification-Unrecognized**

**Length-23 space meters**

**Width-17.5 space meters**

Whatever it was, it was actually rather small, little larger than a fighter. The readout wasn’t giving him any information on what the thing was, but judging from what he did know, it had to be some kind of ship. And an unknown ship so close to Corneria was a cause for concern, especially since it had seemingly materialized out of nowhere.

Radar stations were capable of picking up warp drive signatures in mid-jump to watch for signs of attack. And if this thing could disguise its drive signature in some way, that was bad. It could be a venomian prototype, or the herald of another invasion. The thought of another war so soon after the first one…

He needed to contact command as soon as possible.

Darwin scrambled for the comms station, his day having taken an interesting and unexpected turn.

 

*****

 

Just outside the hustling bustling metropolis of Corneria’s capital city, a home to billions of content citizens and the heart of a just and noble republic, a small villa stood atop the crest of a hill with a cliffside view of a sprawling crystal clear ocean, the sun’s warm rays reflecting off its pristine surface. The villa belonged to Fox Mccloud and the Starfox team, having purchased it after their first victory over Andross’ armies.

Now, years later, it was their home away from home and secondary base of operations, used whenever they wanted a break from the lonely and barren expanse of space. At first, only Fox, Falco, Slippy, and Peppy had lived there. But after the events on Sauria and the small rebellion on Katina months prior, three new members had joined, Krystal of Cerinia, Miyu Lynx, and Fay Spaniel.

Krystal had been rescued by Fox on Sauria and decided to pledge her help to the vulpine in recompense. Miyu and Fay had been pilots for the Katina garrison and were old friends of his. After helping them save their world from an Andross wannabe. He had accepted their request to join.

Now, the team had returned to Fox’s lodge for some R&R.

Fox himself was in the gym, running on a treadmill with headphones and music plugged into his ears, intending to maintain his physical fitness and keep distracted.

Things had been going slow since the war ended and after the saurian crisis and attempted rebellion, not much of note had happened in the pertaining months afterwards. It was fortunate that they still had some funds leftover after those contracts since work was tight for the moment.

Two hours into his workout, Fox slowed down and shut off the treadmill, hopping off and slinging a towel over his shoulders. Panting softly, he made his way to the small locker room to change into his regular outfit, glad that he had been able to afford the gym expansion to their base. It beat having to take the hour ride back into the city.

The villa had been expensive, but well worth the price. Here they had privacy from all their well-wishers and fans. Don’t get him wrong, the fame was awesome, but sometimes it could be overwhelming and more often than not, invasive.

Fox slipped out of the locker room, dressed in his usual attire, a green affair with a white jacket and red knee-high plated boots.

Like the villa, his and the others uniforms were not at all cheap. Rach had been personalized to their wearer’s wants and were specially made for fighter combat. With the press of a button on the wrist cuff, the suit would conform tightly to the wearer’s body. The lower portion of the suit would clamp down, preventing their blood from pooling in their legs, thus allowing them to endure the high intensity g-forces they were exposed to when flying the arwings.

Everyone had their own variation of this design.

Falco preferred a full body red and black suit that also doubled as a form of body armor. Slippy’s was catered more for his mechanical expertise, a yellow and black one that supported a tool belt and accessories that he used when fixing their ships. Fay’s was pure white with soft red highlights, and it was jam packed with all manners of gadgets. Miyu, ever the tomboy, had a sleeveless green and black ensemble and a pair of fingerless gloves. Hers had tactical webbing for all the weapons she liked to carry. And Krystal had a simple blue and black bodysuit with flexible armor plating. Peppy had turned down the offer for a suit, having said that he wasn’t flying anymore anyways. He had clipped his wings after Krystal joined, feeling that his flying days were far behind him. He was far more content being the mission coordinator along with ROB 64.

Fox had his tailored specifically. There was a small lightweight generator hooked the back of his belt that could create a temporary shield he could use to block incoming attacks for a short time. His boots were weighted to give his kicks more power and his jacket had hemmed pockets on the inside, allowing him to carry extra mags for his blaster.

All that together had almost cost them an arm and a leg, but it was well worth the price.

Picking at the lint on his uniform, Fox made his way through the villa’s halls and towards the center, a large circular chamber dubbed the “den”. It was the heart of the house, where everyone went to relax and unwind. It had an entertainment center with a TV, the latest game consoles, and a shelf of books for Peppy.

Fox stepped inside and saw that everyone was accounted for.

Slippy and Fay were sitting cross-legged in front of the TV playing some new construction game…Digcraft or something. Fox wasn’t very intent on the details, he was more of a shooter type than a builder.

Falco was sitting at the table with Peppy, the avian toiling away at his custom assault blaster, a beast of a weapon, strong enough to melt through tank armor. Peppy was just doing his best to read his book and not get gun oil all over the pages, a small cup of coffee at his side.

Krystal and Miyu were off to one side, chatting as they sat on the sofa, probably gossiping about something or other. The two females had become quick friends, and odd duo in the vulpine’s eyes.

Both were nice girls, more than pretty enough, but Fox had Fara, his childhood sweetheart. She was more than enough for him any day of the week. He grinned at the thought.

Fox was unnoticed as he made his way over to Falco, sitting at one of the spare chairs lying about around the table.

“Sup Fox…” Falco greeted distractedly as he removed a small faintly glowing red gem from the gun’s core.

“Good afternoon Fox, I’m glad to see you awake so early. I noticed Fara leaving early this morning and thought for sure you would have slept in later.” Peppy added with a brow raised in amusement.

Fox blushed and chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his head, a habit he had not shaken since he was a kit. “Yeah….right...”

He could see Falco smirking to himself as he rubbed the gem with a cloth.

The hare simply shrugged and licked a finger, flicking a page of his book as he sighed wistfully.

“Ah….the temptation of youth.”

“I think those days are behind you old-timer.” Falco teased.

“Perhaps…but at least I had them. At this rate you’ll reach my age without having done anything at all.” Peppy replied smoothly as he took a sip from his caffeinated drink.

The avian glanced up from his cherished weapon and glared at Peppy.

“I’m just bidding my time is all, you’ll see.”

“Of course…of course, my apologies.”

Fox grinned.

The two were always clashing, almost as often as he did with the bird himself. But it was all in good fun.

“I’ll just borrow this.” He announced as he reached over the table and snagged Peppy’s drink, liberating a portion of the pick-me-up into his waiting maw.

“You are a coffee fiend, Fox. You know that?” Peppy muttered with a smile.

“Always have been, always will be.” Fox retorted as he took another swig and watched as Slippy and Fay attempted to build what looked like the Great Fox in their game using white wool and grey stone.

Maybe he would try his paw at the game later.

The table vibrated, shaking the vulpine’s attention from the screen and he glanced down for the source, discovering that his communicator was buzzing with an incoming call. He read the caller ID and was surprised to see it from General Pepper. He had not spoken with the Bloodhound in weeks, when they had been going over the state of the system. Fox wondered what could be the situation and accepted it, raising a paw for silence.

Once the room quieted down, he spoke.

“General Pepper, what can I do for you?”

“Fox,” The aged voice of the canine replied. “I have need of your team’s services. There’s a situation developing at the edge of the local system. An unidentified contact was picked up on the long range radar. It has mysteriously appeared in system and is composed entirely of materials previously unknown in our region of space. Beltino has been unable to identify its make-up as of yet. Whatever it may be, it has managed to bypass the long range detection grid.”

The vulpine widened his eyes in surprise and shared a curious and worried look with his friends.  The last time something mysterious had happened, his father was killed and the Lylat wars began.

“What is it you need us for, General?” Falco butted in.

“Currently, most of the CDF home fleet is occupied and any other forces are allocated across the entire system. We’re stretched thin, Fox. Your team and ship are the only things close enough to safely investigate the unknown. There aren’t many extra funds to relocate since the war’s conclusion, but I can promise five-thousand credits now, with twice as much when more is made available.

Fox thought it over. It wasn’t a lot of currency, probably the least the team ever received. But he had never turned down a mission from the General, nor did he plan to. And besides that, he wanted to see what it was himself. If it was a threat to the system, he wanted it gone.

“We’ll do it, sir.” Fox declared confidently.

“As I suspected you would. I can always count on your team, Fox. You have my thanks. Time is of the essence so I advise you to head out as soon as possible. Pepper out…”

Fox looked up from his communicator to his team. “So…are you guys ready for another mission?”

Falco shrugged, carefully reassembling his assault blaster. “Sure, why not.”

Peppy rose from his seat. “I’ll head down to the Great Fox right now.”

Slippy and Fay nodded eagerly, the canine wagging her tail excitedly.

Krystal moved to speak but was cut off when Miyu slapped her back roughly, pushing her forwards. “Krys and I are always ready for a mission, Right?” She asked in a Katininan drawl, looking to her friend with a wide grin.

The demure vixen recovered quickly and shook her muzzle at Miyu reproachfully, the feline’s grin widening in response. “Although uncouth, she stands correct.”

“Then it’s settled.” Fox declared, sitting up from his chair. “You all have one hour to prepare and meet up by the hover-car. We’ll set out for the starport at one o’clock.”

With those final words, the team dispersed to their separate rooms to grab what they needed.

 

*****

 

By two, they arrived at the starport and arrived at the dock for the Great Fox. There was no usual hassle to launch the dreadnaught as the port authorities had already been notified of their coming and were waiting to release them.

Within minutes of stepping aboard, Fox had ROB prepare the ship for takeoff. The mechanized steward hooked himself up to his duty station, a console with a line of plugs that ROB interfaced with, giving him instant access to all of the ship’s systems.  From his console, he was able to manage the entire ship and help the team in combat by taking control of the Great Fox’s point defenses and navigation.

After all these years, Fox was still not sure what to make of his robotic team member. He was still debating whether or not he was truly sapient, or if he was just a metal shell hardwired with a specific set of programs.

As the Great Fox launched, the vulpine snapped the four buckled harness across his chest and sagged into the captain’s chair as the Corneria’s gravity sought to keep them tethered to it. Despite the planet’s desire, they broke atmosphere and ROB plugged in their coordinates he received via coded transmission from General Pepper.

It was to be a short flight since it was just at the cusp of the local system, no more than a few minutes at full burn of the Great Fox’s engines. But it was enough time for idle conversation.

“So…Slip, how’s that girl doing, the one you keep talking about, Amanda wasn’t it?” Miyu asked of the toad from her buckled positon.

Fox recalled who she was talking about. Slippy had told him and the others about some girl he had met on the net. After the usual teasing by Falco, they had learned that she was a frog and she lived on Aquas, the oceanic paradise and resort. As of yet, they had not met in person, but the amphibian seemed to adamantly believe that she was the one for him.

“S-she’s doing fine!” Slippy replied in a stutter and blush.

It seemed the toad regretted blabbing to his friends.

“You should go see her soon, why not after this mission?” Krystal suggested. She was a firm believer in romance, and had been attempting to play matchmaker as soon as she heard about Amanda.

“No, I can’t…what if she is disgusted by the sight of me?” Slippy was not an athletic fellow by any stretch of the word, and his jumpsuit was a little too tight on his pudgy frame, but Fox knew he had a great heart and an even better head on his shoulders.

“Hey Slip, if _we_ aren’t sickened by the sight of you and we’ve known you for this long, chances are she won’t care.” Falco put in his own two cents and version of placating his friend. And as usual, it was not very comforting.

Slippy grimaced but otherwise chose not to respond.

“Wow Falco, that was really helpful.” Fay deadpanned and rolled her eyes.

“Just doing my best…” The avian replied simply.

Fox shook his muzzle and joined Fay’s disapproval.

The bird would never change.

Before they could continue, ROB intoned a robotic announcement.

**“Attention, approaching unidentified vessel. Standardized CDF shipbuilding classification database designates unknown as a fighter/bomber.”**

Fox and the others gazed out the bridge’s viewport and watched as a strange sight began to manifest itself against the black backdrop of space.

Whatever it was, it did seem like some sort of ship, but not any they had ever seen before. It was small, but still larger than an arwing by several meters and did not follow any current design on record. The foreign ship sported a pair of cylindrical thrusters, one on the end of each wing, reminiscent of turbines locked inside a steel grey circular casing. There was also a pair of dorsal extensions just before the wings protracted out from the main chassis.  

And unlike an arwing, its wings were forward-swept, curving towards the nose of the fighter rather than the rear. Another glaring difference beside the wings was the placement of the canopy. Whereas the arwing’s cockpit sat at the rear of the fighter just ahead of the engines, this ship’s was situated towards the front, along the nose, and in place of a thick transparent sheet of armored glass, it looked to be made of some solid black metallic material, obscuring whatever lay inside.

The ship had not reacted to their presence, apparently either unmanned or playing dead. There was very little chance the pilot had not seen the lumbering dreadnaught looming over them. Yet it did nothing, seemingly only capable of drifting lazily in the vacuum surrounding it.

Fox hummed quietly and rubbed his furred chin, pondering this new development.

There were no venomian markings, or indeed recognizable emblems painted on its hull. There was a marking on the port side, just behind the cockpit, but it was too small to clearly make out.

The vulpine looked over his shoulder towards his android companion.

“ROB, open a short range channel with the ship on all frequencies, let’s make sure they hear us.”

**“Opening short range unencrypted channel….channel open.”**

Fox nodded and cleared his throat before speaking clearly and authoritatively.

“This is Fox Mccloud, captain of The Great Fox. Identify yourself.”

As his voice faded, they waited for a response, but the minutes dragged on.

“Maybe no one’s home?” Falco proposed after five minutes of silence.

“ROB, scan the other ship for life signs.” Fox ordered, wondering if Falco’s hypothesis was true. If so, it might be an unmanned craft, but then why did it have need of a cockpit?

**“Scanning….Scanning…”** The light on ROB’s bar-like optics flashed back and forth as the machine worked, stopping after a few moments. **“Scan complete, single lifeform detected. Warning! Vital signs are dangerously low. Recommend medical treatment as soon as possible.”**

Fox was alarmed by the announcement, but gathered that it did make a sort of sense. If the pilot was seriously injured, they might not be able to reply.

“What do we do, Fox?” Slippy enquired.

Well, they certainly couldn’t just leave them there.

“Looks like we are going to have to bring it in, ROB, prep the medical ward for a patient and arm the tractor beam.”

Yet as Fox was speaking, the ship outside suddenly gunned its engines and rocketed off into space, the engines in its rear spewing a trail of blue light.

“What the…” Miyu mumbled in confusion.

“They were playing dead after all.” Fay declared with a confused frown on her muzzle. She was curious as to why they would have kept up the charade for so long if they were going to bolt anyways.

Fox was not about to let that ship get away. They still needed answers and the pilot needed help.

“ROB, go after that fighter! I want full power to the engines, and keep the tractor beam ready!” He barked out as he watched the ship zoom away.

The robot complied swiftly and the Great Fox boosted after its target.

 

 


	2. Disarray

Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 1: Disarray

 

The first thing that greeted Six’s consciousness was pain.

His body ached, from a pounding headache to cracked ribs, agony suffused his very bones. Under his armor he could feel his tender skin brush against the bodysuit. For the first time in his memory, he felt weak…feeble. His strength was sapped and the pain, almost unbearable.

His visor was encrusted with dried blood and his mouth soured with a bitter copper tang. The spartan’s HUD remained offline and his suit was fully powered down. He could feel the weight of the heavy titanium slabs restricting him to his chair, the force strong enough to pulverize the bones of a regular human, but merely uncomfortable to him.

The cockpit of the sabre was dark, similarly unpowered. The array of controls and readout screens were dimmed with dysfunction, all the hallmarks of an EMP attack. Yet his MJOLNIR was rated to withstand the most powerful electromagnetic attacks and it was offline as well.

Six hard started his HUD and began to fiddle with the sabre’s systems, intending to get it working, his HUD warning him of a myriad of physical harms exerted upon his body, nothing he hadn’t heard before, although…mild radiation poisoning was new.

As he toiled, the spartan glanced out of the cockpit and froze.

Why were there stars outside?

Where there should have been a covenant corvette’s hanger, was instead a curtain of blanketing stars.

Did the bomb work?

He didn’t remember much after the hunter slapped him into the phantom, but he was sure that the device had gone off. If that assumption was true…shouldn’t he be dead then?

Six wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the last jury-rigged slipspace explosive they had used took out a supercarrier. Did that mean Jorge was still alive?

It was possible, but Six doubted it.

The sabre’s screens suddenly flickered on, illuminating the cockpit and broadcasting a systems crash warning. It would take a few minutes to cycle and refresh.

What would happen after was anyone’s guess.

The radar was the first system to come back online and when it did, it immediately pinged a large contact a few thousand kilometers distant and approaching fast.

Far off, he could make out a strange vessel cruising swiftly towards him.

It didn’t look covenant or UNSC in nature. The hull color was bright silver and it supported four large wings in a cross pattern with what looked like the bridge extending out from the main body, a critical weakness that could easily be exploited. A pair of ominous looking cannons was slotted under the extended bridge with a large boxy protrusion under that. It must have been the ship’s hanger.

There was a symbol on the spine of the larger vessel, an orange fox. Six was surprised to see English script above the animalistic emblem.

_‘Starfox’_

It definitely was not covenant in origin, but the hull design was completely unfamiliar. There were no UNSC ships currently in service built like it and it had no telling markers as to what faction it belonged to. His best guess was that it might be a heavily customized mercenary vessel. There were not many in the UNSC, but he had seen a few in his time, mostly during the insurrection of Mamore. But they were usually shoddy constructs with mismatched hulls and rusted weapons. This was far too elegant, streamlined armor plating and artistic decals. It was a class above the others.

But what was a mercenary ship doing here…wherever here was?

The spartan could see a familiar blue and green planet off in the distance….

It had to be Reach. Six was certain of that fact. He knew that planet better than any other. But, it was not how he had last seen it. There was no massive alien fleet and the planet was unblemished by covenant plasma lances. Something even more cause for concern was the absence of any signs of the UNSC.

It was possible that he might be hallucinating, all this a vivid delusion. Maybe he had never made it to the corvette, and his sabre was just drifting in space as he slowly went insane.

However, with his luck, the spartan didn’t think he would be so fortunate.

Six studied the strange vessel as it coasted to a stop a few kilometers from his disabled craft, glancing down at his instruments.

The main systems were still booting up, effectively leaving him stranded in place, unable to do anything but watch.

The other ship was at an angle that prevented him from seeing into the bridge, and it seemed to be content with brooding over him for the moment.

Six was curious as to what was going to occur next. He had no idea what was happening anymore, outside was a strange ship and a planet Reach that wasn’t quiet the planet Reach. The spartan was starting to think that the slipspace device had done more than expected of it.

Without warning, the comms system crackled into action as a loud and commanding voice made itself known in the cramped cockpit.

“This is Fox Mccloud, captain of The Great Fox. Identify yourself.”

Six choked back the desire to scoff.

Whoever this guy was, he seemed to be a fan of vulpines.

The sabre’s main screen flashed, displaying the electronic equivalent of an all clear and moments later he felt the engines rumble quietly underneath him as power had finally been fully restored.

Now he was able to move, and mobility was good.

Since Six had more options opened up to him, he contemplated his next course of action. First, he wanted to get a better look at that planet and find out if it was truly Reach, and if so, what exactly had happened with the bomb.

But this ship and its captain were another conundrum.

Who exactly were they? He was tempted to respond and find out what exactly he was dealing with.

Movement of the adjacent vessel grabbed the spartan’s attention and he watched as a section of the hull peeled back and an odd barrel of some kind started to emerge. What it did, Six did not know, but he didn’t intend on sticking around to find out.

His choice made, Six jammed the stick forwards and peeled to the right, the saber’s powerful engines sending him careening past and hopefully out of range of whatever that thing was.

A glance backwards alerted the spartan-III to the fact that the other ship was in pursuit. Six was baffled as the vessel erupted into motion, blazing a trail of light as it closed in on him. Such speed for a large craft like that was unbelievable. It was somehow able to keep pace with his sabre.    

Six punched the throttle and sunk into his seat as the sabre leapt out from under him at maximum thrust, slowly but surely distancing itself from his pursuers.

 

*****

 

“Damn it, they’re getting away.” Fox growled.

Whatever that thing is, it was definitely fast. The Great Fox had never been outrun before. At this rate, it would leave them in the dust. Fox’s mind ran a kilometer a second as he raced to puzzle out a solution.

The vulpine turned to his friends. “Krystal, Miyu, Falco, get to your arwings and try to slow them down. Aim for the engines.”

“As you say, Fox.” Krystal dipped her muzzle in acknowledgment and swiftly departed the bridge with her two selected companions.

Fox was confident that the three of them would be able to disable the fighter. Krystal alone would probably have been enough. Her telepathic powers were an incredible advantage in a dogfight, allowing her to anticipate the opponent’s move before they fully planned it out. She was on par with Fox and Falco, her abilities on level with their natural skill and years of experience. In the simulators, Fox had learned that the only way to best her was to remain unpredictable and fly by instinct alone. It had taken a few tries and embarrassing failures for the vulpine to master it.

As the Great Fox chased its quarry, Fox turned to Peppy, the wizened hare attentively staring out of the bridge’s viewport and at their objective.

“What, or who, do you think it is?”

Peppy turned to Fox and cleaned his glasses silently for a moment before he responded. “I cannot tell you Fox, because I do not know. In all my years I have never seen a vehicle quite like it.”

“I think it might be venomian.” Fay interjected thoughtfully. “It kinda does look like something they would make, big and blocky I mean.”

Fox nodded slowly. “Maybe…but I don’t get the same feeling off it. What would a venomian ship be doing here? If it truly was an experiment of some sort, it should have been long gone before we arrived. By rights, if it was truly venomian, it should have either attacked us or run off, not head directly for Corneria.”

“Maybe it has a bomb.” Slippy declared worriedly.

Fox shook his head negatively. “I doubt it. That’s not a standard venomian tactic, they prefer to attack when they have a numerical advantage. Believe me, I would know. And besides, any bomb from a ship of that size would not be effective, if it managed to even get past the orbital defenses. And if it somehow is able to outfly Krystal, Miyu, and Falco, then the local garrison should still be more than adequate in taking it down.”

Fox looked out the bridge and to the ship hurtling away from them, watching as three arwings zoomed out from under the Great Fox, emerging from the hanger. The trio of fighter craft slowly closed in on their target, intending to put its flight to a quick end.

“This should be fast.” He avowed positively.

 

*****

 

Krystal slipped into the cockpit of her Cloudrunner, flicking the row of operating controls and starting up the engines. To either side of her, Falco and Miyu were similarly prepping their arwings for launch.

As always, she experienced the faint pre-flight jitters she received every time she readied for launch. The vixen may have been an excellent pilot, but that did not prevent her from feeling nervous when she flew. Being a fighter pilot was a hazardous occupation there was myriad of things that could go wrong. Your ship might give out at a perilous instant or you could make a mistake at a crucial moment.

But Krystal reminded herself that she still had a debt owed to Fox, one that she intended to pay in full. She was thankful for his help, rescuing her from her crystalloid prison back on Sauria. That aside, she was glad to be a part of the team. In the months after her release from entrapment, they had become her family…even Falco.

Krystal depressed a small button on the side of her controls and activated the hanger’s doors, the hydraulics pulling back the heavy sheet metal and keeping the energy barrier active to maintain its atmosphere.

Whispering a quiet prayer to the spirits, she released the docking clamps and forced the flight stick forwards, speeding her fighter into space. Shortly afterwards, her two wingmates followed suit, forming up aside her.

“So fuzzy butt, what’s the plan?” Falco inquired mischievously off their linked radio.

The vixen rolled her turquoise eyes and held back a sigh.

The red and blue speckled avian was still more than a little sore with the fact that Fox had made her his second in command, and that had been months ago.

“Stick together and work as a team. That means no showboating.” She replied pointedly, acutely aware of the bird’s reputation.

“That means you keep your feather keister plopped down with us.” Miyu interrupted easily, with a chuckle.

Krystal saw the avian shake his head from inside his fighter.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say….spoilsport.” He muttered gruffly.

“Alright, save it for later, we’re coming up on the target. Miyu, fire a few warning shots, then I’ll see if they listen.”

“Will do, Krys.” The feline gave an exaggerated salute before peeling ahead and lining up her sights with the other ship.

But before she could even flick the cover off her trigger, the fighter pulled hard to the right and spiraled, thwarting any attempt at getting a decent shot in.

“This guy might be better than we thought.” Miyu commented with an intrigued growl before throttling her arwing in pursuit.

Krystal let the cat go, waiting to see if she would be able to get a hit, all thoughts on any warnings gone. She doubted the pilot would listen.

“Falco, get ready to go, Miyu and I will lead them towards you. See if you can get a few shots to connect with those engines on its sides.” The vixen shifted her arwing over to Miyu in order to assist the feline in forcing the other pilot to keep weaving or risk getting hit.

“Now that’s an order I can get behind!” Falco exclaimed excitedly and pulled back slightly, readying to release a burst of energy from his lasers.

He watched as the fighter dipped and twirled expertly, never staying still long enough for the two girls to get a clean shot.

“Come on, there you go…just a little closer.” The bird muttered quietly to himself as it steadily slid into his sights. “There! I got you now asshole!” He squeezed the trigger and the lasers sailed directly toward their target on a swift collision course with its left turbine.

…Only to blaze past empty space as the fighter dived at sharp angle and twisted up to the right, peeling back around and shooting past all three of them, closing in on Corneria’s atmosphere.

“Shit! Who the hell is this guy?” Falco demanded in frustration. There was no way they should have been able to slip out of that one.

Krystal could not believe what had just happened, they had him in their sights, and he just slipped away. Whoever this pilot was, they were better than good. She wasn’t even able to get a read off of them. Their mind was a closely guarded fortress, with high bulwarks and thick wall.

“What do we do now Krystal?” Miyu wondered curiously.

“Now, we have to contact the defense force, have them mobilize and corner this fighter.”

As it was, they were far too slippery to have a chance at taking ’em down.

While Miyu contacted the CDF, Krystal patched into the Great Fox’s comms,

“What happened out there?” Fox’s voice emanated from the vixen’s radio.

“I don’t what we’re dealing with, but they managed to get past us.” She explained reluctantly, the idea of failure leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Don’t let it get you too down.” Fox tried to cheer her up. ”I had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy. I’ll swing the Great Fox around and meet up with the local CDF garrison. Keep an eye on that fighter until I get back. Don’t let it get away.”

“I can do that much.” Krystal sighed, ending the transmission. She knew that Fox wasn’t mad, but she still felt as if she had let him down.

The vixen reeled her arwing back around and joined with Miyu and Falco, following after the strange fighter as it entered the atmosphere, no longer attempting to disable it.

As they followed it at a reasonable distance, she could not help but notice that it seemed to know where it was going, flying in a precise direction, towards the mountains a few miles from Corneria City. In fact, it was within sight of their cliffside home.  

Suddenly, the fighter stopped mid-flight, choosing to hover just at the base of the mountain range, its turbines shifting to maintain its altitude.

Curious, the trio stopped as well and called Fox, filling him in on the development.

“Just stay with it, we’re on the way with extra fighter support.” The vulpine responded.

To their left, Krystal could make out the Great Fox and a small group of green and white decaled fighters approaching, the standardized colors of the CDF. No doubt they were a squadron from the base a few kilometers away. She was surprised that they had managed to scramble into the air so quickly. The general probably has them wound up and ready to deploy after fighting through such a costly war.

The Great Fox and its new escort stopped alongside Krystal’s group and the CDF fighters moved to circle the target, ensuring that it would no longer be able to run.

For whatever reason, the ship no longer moved. It just hovered there, doing absolutely nothing.

Krystal wondered what the pilot was thinking.

 

*****

 

Six was a hard individual, even for a spartan. He had been raised from childhood to fight a long and bloody war against a race of genocidal alien monsters. His hands were permanently stained with the blood of countless victims, not all of them alien. He had seen and inflicted so much death that he was numb to its affects. He had experienced more pain and loss than then most people would if they lived several lifetimes. An officer for ONI had called him a living embodiment of death, his personal grim reaper. Six had achieved the rating of hyper-lethal, only one other receiving that honor.

Nothing fazed him.

So, it was quite something that the spartan-III had been driven thunderstruck.

As he had suspected this planet was indeed Reach. The geography was identical, down to the individual crags of erosion on the mountains. And yet….this was not Reach.

Reach did not have a thriving ultramodern metropolis that spanned for hundreds of kilometers. These skyscrapers dwarfed the ones in New Alexandria. In the distance he could see an organized storm as thousands of small craft zoomed in out of the nest of spires…hovercars…honest to god cars that flew in the sky. He had heard of them when marines talked about the future and had seen the strange orbital stations and unfamiliar vessels.

There was also the distinct and glaring lack of scorched plains and desolated cities.

This was not the world he knew.

The spartan glanced out his cockpit, at the array of unknown ships encircling him, and frowned. He had been tempted to fight back, but he was no stranger to dogfights. If they had truly wished to shoot him down, they would have tried harder, either that or they were terrible pilots. And after their original failure, they had not tried anything again, instead choosing to keep at a distance. No. Whoever these people were, they wanted him alive.

Six wasn’t sure what to feel about that.

His mind was still drawing a blank on this new unbelievable development. That slipspace bomb must have really fucked things up. Perhaps staying to fight would not have been such a bad idea?

The certainty of death was almost preferable to what was occurring now.

At the moment, his new associates seemed content with hovering around him, and the spartan was quickly running out of patience.

Something had to happen. And though he had thoughts on seeing how much damage he could inflict, those were quickly quelled. Despite it all, he was curious to see what would transpire next.

Six wound the engines down, cycling them off slowly to let the sabre gently descend to the surface, intending to land in a clearing a few hundred meters from the start of the mountains ascent. It was up to the strangers to decide what was next. Would they come down and talk? Or blast him into oblivion?

At the very least he would be able to die on a planet that looked like Reach. It wasn’t his best option, but he was willing to make do under the circumstances. Although he would at least like to figure out what was going on first.

The sabre’s landing struts sunk a few inches into the grass and the spartan shut it down. The engine’s harsh whine fading until silence was his sole companion. He looked up, seeing the trio of fighters that had chased him earlier as they descended to land at the edge of the grassy glade.

They were odd machines, thin and small. All three were different from each other, each having their own custom design. He recalled what the lead craft was based off of. Back when he had been little, before his colony had been glassed and his life stolen from him, he faintly remembered having toy dinosaurs, cheap molded plastic replicas of the long dead saurians. This one reminded him of a pterodactyl.

The left was modeled after a bird of prey, with long thin wings and a beak like nose. The right craft was more rugged, with heavy plating and blunt stubby wings. Despite their differences, each had similar coloring and had the emblem he saw earlier painted onto their hulls, confirming his mercenary theory.

All in all, they were like no other craft he had seen before. And when the canopy’s popped open and their pilots emerged, Six was absolutely confident he was no longer anywhere he considered to be normal.

They were alien, that much he knew for sure.

Unlike the races of the covenant, they were actually marginally humanlike in appearance. That was of course, if you discounted their tails and fur. While hominid in look, they were about as far from human as you could hope to be.

The one in front, currently cautiously walking towards his sabre, was for all intents and purposes, a bipedal female fox with blue coloration. The foxlike creature had an athletic build, short muzzle, and sharp jade eyes. She was wearing some kind of form fitting black bodysuit with azure plates attached to the fabric and carried a short jeweled rod in her…paw? Six wasn’t sure what you would call it, but for the sake of continuity he decided to generalize based on their dominating traits.

The other two pilots were each of a different species, leading the spartan to believe that he had stumbled upon a civilization much like the covenant, composed of a variety of races. He just hoped that they proved to not be too alike in other regards, mainly their genocidal tendencies.

There was another female, this one taking on the guise of a feline with brown spotted fur. She wore an armored green and black tank top wrapped in tactical webbing. Six could see pouches filled with what had to be magazines of some sort and a few odd looking sidearms. The spartan prioritized her as a primary target in case hostilities broke out.

The last member of this small group was a red and blue feathered avian in a suit similar to the vixens, swapping out the muted blue tone for the much more aggressive red, although his was of a heavier make, more suited for close combat. Even from within his sabre, he could tell that this particular individual had a taste for combat, meaning he was too naïve to truly understand what war was.

They stopped at a safe distance from his sabre and seemed to be waiting for his move.

Six felt a brief desire to take this opportunity to escape or attack, but he held the urge down with iron hard discipline. There was nowhere to go. This was the same system he had been in before the bomb went off, or at the very least the planet was extremely similar. The slipspace device must have done something to send him her, effectively stranding him. He had no contact with UNSC HIGHCOM and he doubted that the UNSC existed where he was. If this world had been anywhere close to human space, it would have been discovered.

Two viable and implausible scenarios ran though his mind.

  1. He was in a different dimension, an insane theory made plausible with the unpredictability of slipspace.



And B. He had been somehow thrown through time, perhaps long before humanity’s existence, or long afterwards. Time skips in slipspace were not completely undocumented occurrences. There have been reported cases, but they were only in small skips, hours, days at the most. This….would be something else entirely.

Whatever the case may be, he should probably do something before they got too impatient.

The spartan moved to open the canopy.

 

*****

 

Krystal stared at the strange spaceship as it sat unmoving in the center of the forest clearing. They had climbed out of there arwings and approached, waiting to see what the pilot’s next move would be. She was aware that the pilot was injured, and was wondering if that might be the reason they had not emerged yet, perhaps they were unable to?

The vixen checked on her friends, seeing Miyu’s relaxed expression and Falco’s uncaring demeanor. They seemed to be relaxed with the entire situation. They were probably used to weird happenings. After all, Fox had fought the giant floating head of a simian dictator over a planet filled with dinosaurs. This was tame in comparison.

“What’s taking so long?” Falco grumbled. The avian was never one to stand idle for long.

Krystal was about to suggest that they get closer when there was a hiss of air from the ship.

The tinted canopy popped and slowly pulled open, revealing a shadowed figure within.

There was a flash of movement and the ground beneath their feet trembled as the pilot of the fighter jumped out and hit the dirt.

Krystal and her friends were unsuccessful in holding back gasps of amazement as the pilot made themself known.

They were adorned in a colossal suit of hulking armor, the deep blue and white glyphed patterns ornamenting it grabbing the vixen’s eye. It was much like the tattooed designs in her fur and the similarities intrigued her.

The armored figure was masculine in appearance, but their race was untellable within that massive armor. He had to be at least two and a half meters from the soles of his boots to the arcing crest of his helmet.

A pair of black weapon stocks shadowed over his spine, revealing that he was heavily armed and most likely, incredibly dangerous.

It was obvious that this man was a warrior of some sort, but from where remained unknown. However, she didn’t think Venom had the capability to make something like this.

The pilot made no other move after exiting his ship, and after a few moments, Krystal hesitantly approached, wishing that Fox was down here in her place. The vixen did not like the feeling she was gleaming of this warrior with what little her powers could detect, caution and aggression in equal levels.

When she closed within two meters of him, she saw his gauntlet drop warily to a sidearm she had failed to notice on her initial inspection, his message quite clear to her.

Keep away.

Krystal halted at the two meter point of their established no man’s land, Miyu and Falco just behind her. Both were keeping their paws close to their own weapons as well.

Tension thickly layered the forest air, neither side doing more than standing and staring at the other. The steel-clad giant was unreadable behind his silver polarized visor and his stillness was unsettling. He was more akin to an armored statue rather than a living being. If not for the fact that they had seen him move before, they would have never thought he was alive.

As the uncomfortable silence loomed, Krystal felt someone nudge her side.

“Well second in command, say something.” Falco muttered under his breath.

“R-r-right…” She replied with a hesitant nod in the avian’s direction.

The vixen cleared her throat and took a moment to formulate what she would say.

“W-who are you?” She demanded, wincing at the hesitant fluctuation in her tone.

The towering pilot offered no immediate response, and she was beginning to think they would not answer.

_“I could ask you the same question.”_

Krystal flinched at the sudden eruption of his coarse speech.

Spirits! Did the man gargle broken glass?

“You are trespassing on our territory.” She countered.

_“You chased me down.”_ The male retorted evenly.

Krystal grimaced, resisting the urge to point aggressively at him. “Only because _you_ entered _our_ system!”

There was a deep rumble, the vixen realizing that it was the man growling quietly.

_“You test my patience fox.”_ He rumbled irritably, his gauntlet lingering closer to his sidearm.

Krystal scowled, her royal blood insulted by the stranger’s brutish attitude.

She would have admonished his insolent behavior if not for Miyu, who jumped in to cool the rising tensions.

The spotted feline shot between the short-tempered pair and raised her paws to break the impending standoff.

In reaction, the stranger reached for his sidearm but relinquished his grip once he realized what the cat was attempting to do, his giant gauntlet resuming its stance above the weapon.

“H-hey…alright guys, let’s just take a breather huh? Our ship detected that you’re injured so why don’t we help you eh? How does that sound?” Miyu projected an air of casual friendliness that Krystal would never have been able to replicate.

The vixen’s unimpressed glare softened slightly but did not fully retreat. He did not look to be injured, but ROB never lied.

The stranger slowly withdrew his gauntlet from his weapon, just enough to ease Miyu’s fears. She didn’t fancy getting a hole in her today.

The feline exhaled in relief and sagged her shoulders. “Great, great…good, that’s better.”

_“I have no need of medical assistance.”_ The stranger refused coldly.

“But surel-” Miyu began to argue.

_“Negative.”_ He cut her off. _“I’ll manage on my own.”_

The feline frowned and her ears pulled back in discontent.

“I see…”

Krystal felt as if they were starting to branch away from the main issue at hand and so the vixen stepped forwards assertively.

“Who exactly are you? Your ship carries no identifying insignia and your armor is devoid of markings. Where is it that your allegiance lies?”

The stranger took another moment to pause before he responded.

_“…I’m afraid that’s classified.”_

Krysta growled in frustration, tempted to extend her staff and teach him not to cross an irate vixen. She about had it with this male’s subterfuge and evasion.

Before she could act out on her desire, her comms bracer erupted into sound as Fox’s voice barked across the high-band.

“Krystal, I need you and the others in the air _now_!”

Alarmed, the vixen glanced down and spoke into the receiver, the stranger silently observing their conversation.

“What’s going on, Fox?”

The other vulpine responded with a hint of panic in his voice.

“The local system radar operator picked up on numerous incoming warp drive signatures. The General thinks it might be another invasion.”

Krystal froze, distressed by Fox’s announcement. Falco and Miyu both shared a worried glance and the stranger seemed confused, the vixen able to faintly pick up on it through her gift.

Fox continued. “The local fleet is already moving to take up defensive positions in orbit and groundside forces have been mobilized to move the civilians down into the shelters.”

“What about the stranger?” She inquired, glancing up to his imposing visor.

“If he doesn’t work for Venom then Pepper wants him to work for us.”

“I don’t think that’s going to fly, Fox.” The vixen muttered, glaring at the giant in front of her. “He’s being rather obstinate.”

“We don’t have time to debate. The inbound signals are only a few minutes out. If he doesn’t; want to save civilian lives then we don’t need him.”

_“……I will help.”_

Krystal was taken by surprise with the stranger’s firm declaration, turning to him curiously.

_“If innocent lives are indeed at risk then I will lend my support.”_

The vixen could not detect any trace of fallacy or ulterior motive from the stranger, and while it could be that such sentiments were well hidden, she felt as if he was being truthful.

“Then that’s settled. I don’t know who you are, or why you came here. But for the moment you’re one of us…welcome to Starfox. Now, get in your fighters and get moving. I’ll see you in orbit.” Fox cut the transmission.

Krystal, Falco, and Miyu all looked to the one that had just been unceremoniously enlisted into their mercenary team.

The stranger endured their gazes with no comment, silently turning and walking towards his own ship, his footsteps reverberating in the silent glade.

“Well….that sure was something.” Falco stated matter of factly before heading to his arwing, Miyu following close behind after one last glance at the stranger.

Krystal was the last to move, leaving after a thoughtful humph.


	3. Unyielding

Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 2: Unyielding

 

Six silently buckled into the sabre’s pilot seat, wondering why he had just unwittingly signed up as a mercenary for an alien civilization on a whim. The damning words had inexplicably uprooted themselves from his lips, his mouth forming the dreaded syllables even as he felt the all-encompassing urge to refuse their unpleasant request. His mind desperately sought justification for such a rash course of action and he told himself it was all for the innocent lives supposedly on the line. However, his mind reasoned that they were in fact not human lives. Therefore he had no actual obligation to defend them.

In the end, the truth was far more simple than that.

He needed conflict to occupy his thoughts, lest he dwell on what the truth of his existence now was.

Without the UNSC he lacked purpose.

Six buried that thought before it got any bigger and focused on what was at hand.

This version of Reach was about to be attacked and this time, it _would_ hold, whether or not it was the world he knew. He supposed in that way he did have a small, if somewhat strained excuse for his hasty decision. He had a sliver of perceived loyalty, based on a flimsy technicality that even a well-versed lawyer could not hope to argue its defense.

Still…it was something, and that was all that mattered.

The spartan guided his sabre into the air and towards the atmosphere, following behind the three pilots he had just met. To his left, he watched as the other fighters that had originally come to trap him were now heading up into orbit as well.

It was amazing how fast things could change.

“Hey new guy, if you can hear this, switch your radio to this frequency.”

Six heard the voice come in on an open channel, pinpointing it as belonging to the feline from before and he did as instructed. Moments later she spoke again.

“So…you got it yet?”

_“Affirmative.”_ He replied.

“Excellent. Now, since we are going to be flying together, is there any particular name you go by?”

The spartan thought it over. In order for them to function at peak efficiency, designations would be necessary to coordinate in combat.

_“Six….you can call me Six.”_

“Six huh, odd name that. You can call me, the best fighter pilot ever to touch the skies…or Miyu. That works too.” The saucy feline imparted to him a throaty chuckle.

The spartan felt a tinge of amusement.

The cat sure was confident.

“The pissy bird’s called Falco and the pleasant fox you talked with is Krystal and together we are the primary team for the Starfox mercenary company, in case you didn’t know.”

So…they were mercenaries. He knew as much.

Six followed them as they broke the atmosphere and sped towards a growing collection of larger vessels gathering around an orbital station to create some form of blockade. It was a grim reminder of a more recent battle with different players. He just hoped that it would also have a different ending.

The majority appeared to be roughly the size of a UNSC destroyer, maybe a little larger and unlike any UNSC ships. The hulls were silvery white and dyed with blue highlights, varying drastically from human shipbuilding practices. For all intents and purposes, they were massive versions of the fighters he had seen, long narrow prows and wedge-like wings.

“So stranger, where are you from?” The avian he had learned to be called Falco asked him, shaking the spartan from his thoughts.

The question dredged up old and painful memories, his helmet suddenly filled with the scent of charred flesh and ionized plasma. Six strangled the approaching grim remembrance and forced himself to focus on the present.

He saw no reason to lie.

_“I was born on a world called Concord Dawn.”_

“Huh, never heard of it, where is that?”

_“Far from here…”_ Six replied neutrally. If what he suspected was true, it was farther than they could imagine.

“Is it a nice place?” Miyu wondered.

_“It used to be, before it was destroyed.”_ Six answered, his voice slightly subdued. What few memories he retained from his past painted Concord in a favorable light, before it was glassed of course.

“Your world was destroyed? What happened?” Krystal cut in softly.

This was the first time that the spartan heard the vixen speak since they left the planet’s surface. He was curious to note that her earlier hostility had completely evaporated from her tone. In fact, he swore he heard...empathy in its place, a foreign concept that had never been applied to him. For that very reason he decided to humor her with a response.

_“War…”_

Before the vixen could probe for more details, another voice joined their conversation.

“Glad to see you all up here, the fleet’s almost in position.”

It was the one they called, Fox.

“Yeah well where do you need us?” Miyu inquired.

“Regroup on the Great Fox, Slippy, Fay, and I already launched.”

Six could see the mercenaries’ ship at the fore of the burgeoning fleet. Its alternate design and larger size helping it stick out amid the others. Three fighter craft drifted underneath the hanger, their colors marking them as the other members of the team. The ones with him sped off to their companions, the spartan deciding to keep his distance while still close enough to render assistance if necessary. He wasn’t here to make friends. He would fight and then….

He didn’t know.

What was a spartan without a cause?

He had no answer.

What he did know, was that he was a warrior.

For now, he would fight.

 

*****

 

Fox glanced outside of his arwing’s cockpit, studying the stranger’s ship as it floated at a distance from him and his team. He had been unable to get a good look at him from the Great Fox, but what he did see told him that this man was not to be taken lightly.

The vulpine shifted comms frequencies to a closed band and contacted his team. He wanted to get an opinion from them.

“What do you guys think of our new friend?”

“He’s certainly….different.” Miyu replied with a chuckle.

“You mean he’s a brute.” Krystal muttered sullenly as she no doubt slouched in her pilot seat, the vixen not having forgiven the stranger for his earlier transgressions.

Fox smiled.

As pleasant and kind as Krystal was, she did not often suffer the coarseness of others, which was why he had been surprised that she and Falco had not come to blows as of yet. He had a running bet with Peppy as to when the hysterical event would occur. At the moment, the pot was sitting at a hefty five hundred credits and he had been trying to get Slippy and Fay to buy in.

So far he had not had much luck.

“Come on, he can’t be that bad. You did chase him down, albeit on my orders, so he’s bound to be displeased about that. Give him time.”

“Time…? Are you intending for him to remain with us longer?” Krystal inquired in surprise.

Fox couldn’t help it.

“Maybe…”

He heard the vixen’s dissatisfied intake of breath and grinned wider. He could never resist the urge to tease her. Krystal’s ingrained sense of pride made a good source of entertainment, all in good fun of course.

“I would strongly advise against that, Fox. We still know nothing about him.” She countered quickly.

“We know that his homeworld was destroyed.” Miyu pipped in helpfully.

“Yes…we do know that.” The vixen conceded softly.

Fox’s smile vanished.

He was intensely aware of Krystal’s past. She had come from a broken world, the last of her people. And after seeing how distraught she had been after telling her tale, he had taken her in and let her join his team, a decision he held no regret for. She became the sister he never had, and she did more than that. It was her advice that allowed him to finally confess his feelings for Fara, something he would always be thankful to her for.

“Are you alright Krys?” The vulpine asked hesitantly. He knew that even slight mentions of her homeworld were enough to sink her spirits.

“I am fine, Fox. Thank you for your concern.” She accepted his good intentions with a sigh.

She sounded anything but.

Unfortunately there was no time for him to pursue his inquest. The source of the incoming warp signatures would be arriving at any moment and now was not the time for distractions.

He switched back to open comms, for the benefit of their new friend.

“Alright team, if this is as bad as we think, if this is indeed another invasion, I want everybody to be at their best. Fight together and watch each other’s backs. Peppy and ROB will provide support in the Great Fox. You know the drill, call out cruisers and let them handle it. I want you to focus on the fighters. And most importantly, stay alive.”

A wave of acknowledgments graced his ears, but no response from the stranger.

Fox looked back to his ship and hummed thoughtfully.

He had lost him home as well. Perhaps it had not completely settled with him?

As Fox mused, Peppy’s voice came over the radio.

“Warp signatures detected, here they come!”

The entire defense fleet watched as a veritable tide of vessels slipped into realspace, and Fox’s morale plummeted.

The brazen red V and simian mug smeared onto their hulls shrieked their loyalty to the universe. It would seem that Venom was not down for the count yet. But who was leading them? Andross had been finally put to rest. The proverbial head had been cut off the snake. So why had they not given in?

As the enemy fleet approached, a cloud of small shapes billowed forth from their underbellies and a bold facetious voice spoke for all to hear.

“Corneria, your judgment is at hand. I, Andrew Oikonny, will avenge the death of my uncle and bring your world to its knees!”

Fox groaned.

_Really?_

Of all the sapients in the system it had to be Oikonny? He vaguely remembered the ape from their encounters with Starwolf. To be frank, he was the last one Fox suspected of rising to the mantle of leader of Venom, or of anything for that matter. Wolf would have been a better choice, and he hated that guy more than anyone else alive.

“This asshole…again?” Falco gave off a likeminded grunt.

“Didn’t you guys already beat him?” Fay inquired in puzzlement. She had heard tales of the team’s exploits from the past, vaguely remembering someone by that name.

“Yeah, he wasn’t a very good pilot.” Slippy added, ignorant to the irony of his declaration.

“I guess we’ll just have to remind him not to mess with Starfox.” Miyu growled excitedly, the feline eager for a fight.

Fox flipped through the comms, speaking directly to the cornerian admiral.

“We’ll lead the charge, Sir.”

The admiral responded gravely. “Very well, the fleet will provide assistance. Good luck, Starfox.”

“Never had need of it,” Fox replied with a chuckle as he scrutinized the swarm of enemy fighters beginning their advance and ready to address his team. “Remember, stay to-”

A flash of movement cut him off and the startled vulpine watched as the stranger’s fighter gunned ahead, blazing a wild trail of blue afterburn as he rocketed to what could only be a certain death. Fox knew there was no way he could hope to engage so many enemies and survive.

“Hey, Six, where the hell are ya going?!” Miyu demanded. The feline had been taken aback by their new companion’s sudden action. She had just met this interesting individual and he now seemed content in throwing his own life away, which baffled her.

The man offered no response as he continued his suicidal charge.

“Thickheaded fool…” Krystal scoffed quietly, but her seemingly unconcerned remark held little spite, the vixen sounding concerned for him, too kind to hold an earnest grudge for long.

 

*****

 

Six had his targets in sight, heedless of the feline’s concerned call. A battle had been offered to him, and he was in no mood to decline. The familiar and welcomed call to war filled his fighting spirit with contentment. It was good to be back with something he could understand. As he observed his adversaries, Six grinned behind his visor.

The spartan was fortunate that the enemy supplied him with so many tempting choices.

He would just have to take them all.

As his sabre closed in on the approaching tide, he armed the entire arsenal of medusa missiles and released the safety on the 130mm twin autocannons.

The horde of enemy strike craft eagerly zeroed in on the lone fighter seemingly throwing itself into the fire, unaware of the grave mistake they had made.

They were facing no easy foe.

This was a spartan.

_‘Target’s locked.’_

Six pressed the firing stud and a storm of warheads hurled forth in a blooming cloud of exhaust, like the thundering hurricane of an angry god.

The clusters of enemy craft were too close together to effectively evade the oncoming tempest and were helpless as the flurry of missiles detonated amongst them.

His first clash with this new enemy instantly revealed new information to him.

There ships were not as shielded or armored as covenant vessels.

The missiles tore them apart, plowing through their flimsy energy barriers and thin hulls, the explosions alone causing catastrophic damage, regardless of whether they had successfully hit or not. The entire first wave was not but sundered wrecks, drifting amidst a slowly developing debris cloud of vacuumed corpses and cooling alloys.

Six ghosted past the remains and aimed his rampage towards the next cluster of enemies, these far more hesitant to engage.

His success however, was not without cost.

**Missiles Depleted**

The warning boldly displayed itself on the sabre’s console and instigated a frown from its pilot.

It looked like he would have to do this the old fashioned way.

That suited him just fine.

After a few moments the enemy gathered their courage and moved to attack, after all…

It was just one ship. How much damage could it really do?

 

*****

 

The Starfox team watched on in rising wonder as the stranger singlehandedly engaged the entirety of Oikonny’s fighter core. He had completely annihilated the first wave with a single volley of missiles and was now tearing into the second with what looked like ballistic based cannons.

“I had a feeling he was good….but damn.” Falco exclaimed in admiration. It was quite a feat to garner the avian’s esteem, and this definitely qualified.

Fox had no idea that they had been pursuing an ace, and he was now very interested in figuring out who this man was. Fighter pilots of his caliber were about as common as a dust storm on Aquas. Such abilities only came with experience and the vulpine was confident he would have heard of a pilot with his prowess sometime during his career.

Miyu watched as the one who called himself a number pulled a sharp turn, coming behind a pack of venomian bombers and picking them apart with surgical bursts of his autocannons, leaving smoldering husks in his wake. At that moment, she decided that she would very much like to speak with this man in greater detail, hoping that Fox had been serious about thinking of letting him join. He would no doubt have a few interesting techniques to show her and she was always eager to learn.

“Reckless, he’s going to get himself killed.” Krystal muttered disapprovingly. His skills may have been impressive, maybe more than so, but in her opinion, his lone wolf attitude was a fatal flaw. You could fight as many battles as you wanted on your own, but without a team you were waiting for the inevitable.

“I don’t know, it looks like he’s doing fine by himself.” Slippy disagreed, watching in awe as he weaved through a veritable avalanche of lasers, still managing to take down a pair of unlucky pilots in a flash of light.

“That’s all and well, but shouldn’t we do our job now?” Fay cut in impatiently. Her stance was similar to Krystal’s, although she just wanted to get in there and do something. He may have been doing an admirable job, but there were many more fighters to take the place of the ones that had fallen, and there were far more things to face then them.

The venomian fleet disregarded the dogfight and was approaching the CDF battle line. Soon the real fight would begin, and it would be best to get in now.

“Fay’s right, let’s move. It’s time to show them what we can do. On me!”

Fox pushed forwards on his flight stick and raced off to join the stranger, his team close behind.

 

*****

 

Six growled wrathfully as a volley of lasers splashed against his sabre’s shields, dropping them down several percentages. These laser weapons were not as effective as covenant plasma, but they were far more accurate and numerous, making up for their inefficiencies while proving more difficult to avoid.

The spartan depressed the firing stud and perforated the unfortunate enemy strike craft locked in his sights. His satisfaction bloomed, as did the firestorm created by the destruction of his target.

On his command console the radar was filled with red dots buzzing all around him, like a swarm of maddened wasps forced from their nest. A crimson tide whirled around his cockpit as the enemy desperately attempted to put down the ruthless pilot in their midst.

The spartan-III’s gauntlets dexterously manipulated his flight stick, dancing through the haze of red death, his autocannons roaring their fury to the heavens.

Six had slain uncountable numbers behind both sabre and longsword alike. His skills with fighter craft were without equal. Just like his fellow spartans he excelled in all forms of warfare, whether with his boots on the ground or behind the control of UNSC and covenant machines of war.

These petty weaklings were barely deserving of the title of pilots, relying on the sheer weight of numbers to overcome their foes and their blatant inadequacies. The glaring disparity between their numbers and their actual skill elicited a derisive chuckle from the human supersoldier.

He would be glad to end their insufferable ignorance.

A pair of these mediocre fighters dropped in behind him, believing that they had gained the upper hand. He was about to dissuade them from that foolish notion when they evaporated under a fusillade of bright green daggers of energy soaring down righteously from above.

The instigator of this attack none other than one of the mercenaries from before, who whooped boisterously over the comms as she blazed past him.

He caught a flash of feline ears, amber eyes, and a smirking muzzle before he lost sight of the interloper, already chasing down another batch of unlucky victims.

Six didn’t know whether to grin or snarl in rage.

Instead he satisfied himself with finding another target.

But the pickings were slim as the rest of the mercenary team had arrived, cutting apart the enemy with commendable ease.

The spartan was willing to admit, they were indeed skilled. He was not so stubborn as to deny that, but they were not up to par with the soldier’s grueling standards.

They were sloppy and took a certain…revelry, in their actions that offended him. Six was a killer, he would be the last to dispute that fact. He had executed numerable victims, some pleading for life in a futile hopefulness that he would spare them. Six had been an asset for the office of naval intelligence for most of his career. He was no stranger to dark deeds. The difference was that he had made peace with his inner demons. He shouldered that heavy burden, knowing full well what that made him. And though he did not seem like it, Six valued life above all things, an odd concept for a merciless assassin.

To him life was sacred, a gift given to all. And he was willing to surrender his own to defend those that were incapable of defending themselves. Not only that but he was willing to sully his very soul with heinous atrocities if it meant that others did not have to suffer the same fate.

Six knew that he was no hero. His actions were not that of a gallant man, he was a murderer, disguised as a selfless martyr.

But at least he had accepted what he was, embraced his darkness.

These aliens however, they did not seem to realize the magnitude of their actions. Each ship they shotdown was a life ended, years of emotions, thoughts and beliefs eradicated in a bright flash of agony.

And they bantered as they killed, seemingly uncaring of the lives they destroyed.

For that, Six was not sure what to think. All the marines he had encountered and many of the pilots were the same. Perhaps that was how they coped with what they did?

After all, they lacked the fortitude and resilience of a spartan.

Could he really blame them for willingly hiding under false pretenses and honeyed words? For doing their best to ignore the truth behind their actions, for hiding behind their flimsy façade of obliviousness?

Perhaps not…

Six shot down another enemy fighter, watching as it spiraled into the deep blackness, wreathed in flames that soon died out in the oxygen deprived vacuum of pace, leaving the burned out wreck to be lost in the unforgiving void.

Perhaps he should not be the one to judge them for their actions.

After all, a man who had only known the carnage of war and had killed for most of his life was a poor advocate on preaching on the morality of others.

A bright cascade of light grabbed his attention and Six watched as the two fleets finally clashed, trading bright lances of color coded energy splashing against robust energy barriers.

It was strange to see two factions on equal terms. The UNSC’s fight with the covenant had always been and would continue to be, devastatingly one-sided. The only reason they were able to pull off any victories was through the sheer determination and unflinching resolve of both the navy and the army.

MAC cannons also helped some.

All his life Six had fought losing battles, so it was quite a turn of events to be on even ground.

It was time he changed that for the better.

Six spotted an enemy cruiser, about the size of a Paris-class frigate, as it doled out volley after volley of ordnance upon a smaller friendly vessel. The shields were holding, but Six could visibly see the strain it was being put through, the strange blue barrier enveloping it withering under the assault. Soon its defenses would buckle and the high intensity laser lances would cleave through unprotected hull plating and spell the end of its occupants.

He would have to put a stop to that.

Six was not certain what he could do without his medusa missiles, but he could not just leave them to their fate.

He may be a fresh face to this place and its odd populace, but he had sided with them, for good or ill. And when he gave his allegiance, it was not something to be taken lightly.

Seeing that the dogfight was in good hands with this Starfox crew, he coasted away and towards the cruiser weight vessel.

As he neared, he spied an inconsistency on the overall design. There was a large spherical orb comprising the center of its construction. To his experienced eye, it was a glaring structural weakness.

And one he intended to exploit to the utmost.

Six directed the nose of his sabre at the strange protrusion and unleashed a fearsome volley from his autocannon, the hail of explosive ordnance crashing into his target with the force of several scorpion battle tanks.

The fusillade detonated upon the cruisers shields, taxing the already strained reactors, occupied with deflecting the shots from its beleaguered target.

Under attack from twin directions, the shields could no longer cope and they burst, scattering fading shards of light into space.

Now unprotected, Six’s barrage burrowed into the fragile orb-like construct that dominated the heart of the enemy vessel. Lattices formed along its edges, spiraling towards the center as the merciless flurry of 130mm shells that could have once found themselves home in howitzer field guns, smashed against its crystalline surface.

Six’s visor polarized as a blinding flash of light ripped through the local space, the orb bursting into millions of miniscule shards, the cruiser now snapped in half along the developing fault lines of crumpled alloy, the two halves forced away from each other by the flames and force of the detonation. 

The ship he had saved pulled away from its position and hobbled back towards the friendly battle line, trailing leaking reactor fluids, lucky that was all it seeped. It could have easily trailed corpses in its wake if not for his intervention.

Six was about to leave and let it limp home when he spotted a pack of enemy fighters closing in on its rear, either oblivious or uncaring of his presence. At its current speed the vessel would not return in time to avoid the potentially lethal attack and any other able bodied friendly fighters were too busy fighting their own little wars. The spartan sighed as he shifted his attention, speeding towards the oncoming attack craft.

In the end they proved to be little challenge and he took up guardianship of the retreating vessel, leaving the shattered remnants of the strike craft that had so foolishly attempted to accost the object under the spartan’s protection.

Acting as the wounded ship’s shepherd, he led it back to its comrades before peeling away to once more join the cacophony of war, somewhat content in his newfound purpose.

 

*****

 

Fox watched as the stranger directed the wounded cruiser back to their battle line, repulsing a second attack from the forces of Venom. He could not help but feel some strange sense of pride as he watched that venomian battlecruiser go up in flames.

It was a welcome feeling to have the aid of another experienced fighter pilot. Such were few and far between among the forces of Corneria. The only ones that he knew of that were not already in his team were Bill and Katt. But both were off on their own little duties, the bulldog was overseeing the outpost on Katina and Katt herself was doing her own solo mercenary stint.

And as much as he hated to admit it, the CDF fighter core was severely lacking. Most of the experienced pilots had been killed in the First Lylat war and the rest were mostly raw recruits given a few weeks of rushed training before being thrown out to fight for their struggling republic.

Fox did not doubt their courage, rather he admired it, but they were ill equipped to face the unflinching tides of Venom. How their enemy continuously drew from seemingly inexhaustible sources of capital and able bodies to fuel their war effort baffled the vulpine and frustrated him to no end.

They would have need of every experienced soldier they could get their hands on, especially if this attack was the precursor to a new war. He would have to find a way to entice the stranger into joining their cause. From what he had shortly gathered about this…Six, he was a defender of innocents. Perhaps he could use that card again to bring him around?

A shudder through space snatched his thoughts away and Fox watched in sorrow as a CDF cruiser imploded, hammered by relentless attacks from the remaining venomian battlecruisers. Just like that, a thousand servicemen and woman gone in an instant, either strangled by the void or broiled alive by harsh lasers.

By now most of the venomian fleet was in ruins. The early warning by the new long range detection grid developed by Slippy’s father had allowed them enough time to consolidate their navy before the venomians arrived. With a unified front it was far easier to repel the attack, but casualties could not hope to be completely prevented, only reduced. Still…it was far better than he could have hoped.

Despite this, Venom’s navy seemed steadfast in their mission. It was easy to see which ship Oikonny resided in, the largest of the enemy vessels cowering behind its forces, using them as a shield.

Of course the spineless ape would not participate, preferring to let his army suffer for his diabolic goals. Such cowardice inflamed Fox’s anger, the seething vulpine grasping his controls in shaking paws.

The mad dictator was no better than his deceased uncle, speaking of restoring Venom to its former glory but not willing to expend the personal effort to accomplish that goal.

Fox was about to order his team to attack the simian’s command ship when he saw the stranger’s fighter cleave a violent path of destruction towards it, destroying anything crazy enough to stand in his way.

It would seem he was in a similar mind as Fox in regarding the ape.

As the stranger’s ship disappeared into the belly of the dreadnought’s hanger, Fox rallied his team and moved to join their new companion in his endeavor, hoping that they might be able to rip the heart out of this insurgency before it could fully develop.

 

*****

 

Six stepped over the cooling corpse of some reptilian clad in flimsy black armor, nothing more than machined plastic molded to the unfortunate soldier’s person. He supposed it might do something to protect against this laser technology so widely used in this outlandish place, but it did not hold up to the 7.62x51mm FMJ Armor-Piercing rounds of his MA37, which just went to show why humanity had always favored ballistic weapons.

The spartan cycled a new magazine into his bullpup rifle and glanced about the hanger he had effectively slaughtered his way through. Corpses were sprawled about the large expanse, fresh pools of blood encircling their expended forms.

He had come crashing amongst them like an avenging angel, slaying all in his sight. Their weapons, while numerous, were inadequate in even breaking past his shields. The reverse engineered covenant tech seemed to provide better protection then whatever they had to offer, and none of the foot soldiers he encountered were equipped with shielding technology of their own, leaving them at a distinct disadvantage.

As he observed his morbid handiwork, the spartan was reminded that had come here with a specific purpose in mind.

This ship was located behind the enemy lines, quite an obvious place for a VIP, perhaps even the leader of this invasion. That pompous sounding fool, Oikonny as he heard him called.

Finally, the enemy must have noticed his arrival as the familiar howl of warning klaxons graced his MJOLNIR’s audio sensor suite. The blaring cautionary tones dampened by his armor’s passive protective systems.

Six headed for a large bulkhead, watching as it opened and a squad of these base aliens rushed in, pointing their pathetic weapons at him in what they must have figured to be an intimidating display of might.

In answer, the spartan chuckled darkly and racked the bolt of his rifle’s slide, chambering the next deadly round.

This realm did not know what a spartan was.

He would be delighted to enlighten them.

 

*****

 

Fox and the others set down in the dreadnought’s hanger, fully expecting a fight on their paws, instead all they were met with were bloodied corpses riddled with ragged holes in their splintered armor.

The stranger’s craft sat idle at the epicenter of the massacre, piles of brass colored shell casings’ littering the deck underneath its landing struts.

“By the spirits….!” Krystal declared in unbelieving shock, taking in the glut of carnage before hers and the others stunned eyes.

It would seem that their companion was just if not more lethal on the ground as he was in the air. And the vixen found herself unashamedly glad she had not sought to pick a fight with him earlier. As this revealed, such a confrontation would not have ended well on her part.  

The sight before them even stayed Falco’s unconscious desire for snide comments, the avian instead electing to hold his assault blaster in a tighter grip.

Slippy had always carried a weak constitution, and the sight before him took all of his effort not to be sick. It was far worse than anything he had seen before. The toad grabbed an oil stained rag from his tool belt and held it up to his nose, preferring the unpleasant scent of lubricant rather than the sickening tang of freshly spilt blood and offal.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I might as well.” Fay agreed, pinching her nose shut.

Fox shared a quick glance with Miyu before taking control of their group. She was one of the few present that had seen such level of death before, albeit on a different battlefield.

“Come on, we can dwell on this later. Now we need to catch up and stop Oikonny.”

With his commanding words, they buried their concerns and followed him past the open doors of the hanger, spying even more corpses decorating the hallway. It seemed that this stranger’s bloodlust knew no bounds.

Some of them had looked to have been prostrating on their knees before death claimed them, which meant that they had surrendered, and been ignored.

The thought that this man had disregarded their pleas and murdered them in cold blood chilled their souls. It was quite obvious that they knew nothing about their odd companion. Perhaps Krystal had been wise in suggesting that they distance themselves from him.

But, unknown to him, the vixen was more concerned for the stranger than the dead venomians. She held little sympathy for the lackeys of Andross or his craven nephew. It was the ape’s will that led to her planet’s annihilation. And anyone affiliated him deserved whatever fate befell them.

No.

What troubled her was the stranger himself.

With or without her powers, the vixen was an excellent judge of character. And she could see the barely repressed rage in the trail of death he had left in his wake. Whether he knew it or not, he was still haunted by the loss of his world and of whatever sorrows had been sown into his life. She could see it in the broken bones and blood covered bodies of those left behind. This Six channeled his aggression and hate into his lust for battle, fueling the fires of his wrath. This man’s past troubled him deeply, that much she could tell.

Despite their glaring differences, she could not help but feel some modicum of kinship with this brutal warrior. He had lost his home and all he did was express this agony in ways other than she. Where Krystal sought solace in compassion and understanding, his reconciliation was derived from the discord of war and the exaltation of conflict.

Despite her earlier reaction to his harsh ways, she felt the desire to offer some consolation to him when next the chance made itself available to her, if it ever did.

For the team, there was no enemy to fight, just a breadcrumb trail of broken corpses, a gruesome path leading into the heart of the venomian dreadnought.

As they neared what they suspected to be the bridge, the faint din of combat echoed through the open passage, the source, a broken bulkhead at the end of the hall.

Upon closer inspection they realized that an enormously strong pair of hands had pulled the steel apart, the mold of the person’s fingers still etched into the metal. Once more they were reminded that they knew nothing of this individual, especially of his apparent great strength.

The high pitched whine of lasers was suddenly cut with the emergence of a pained shriek that carried itself from the broken door, silence preceding the sickening crunch of broken bones.

Falco took a step back and gestured to the door as he looked to Fox.

“After you oh brave and magnanimous leader.”

The vulpine scoffed and unholstered his sidearm before stepping towards the cleaved entrance, pausing at the threshold. With a silent gulp, he steadied his nerves and slipped inside.

He was unsurprised to discover more bodies.

He did however note that there was someone still alive, that being the massive armored form of whom he hoped to be this Six fellow. Otherwise, he was sure his life was now forfeit as he gazed down the barrel of a rifle.

His observation on the Great Fox had been wholly insufficient in imparting the true size and scope of the warrior currently towering over him. Six was a colossal block of muscle and steel, the hulking man covered in dense slabs of armored plates. His once pristine blue and white glyphed armor was marred by splashes of crimson lifeblood and gristle from sources Fox did not want to dwell on. His height had to breach the seven foot mark and his helmets crest added several centimeters, which upon inspection did not matter when he had already attained such a stature.

Fox was tall for a cornerian, standing at 5’5. So when next to someone of this man’s height, he could feel his smaller size keenly. Now he knew what it was like to be looked down on.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Realizing that he was still in the soldier’s gunsights, he passed off one of his trademark chuckles, though weak and timid, and unconsciously rubbed the back of his furred head.

“Heya, name’s Fox. Remember me?”

The soldier silently regarded him with his imposing silver visor and as the uncomfortable seconds drew on, Fox let out another gulp and felt an uncharacteristic drop of sweat trail down his brow.

_“Mccloud…”_

The abrasive speech of the warrior made Fox, flinch. But he also let out a sigh of relief as the gun lowered several fractions, enough for him to resume breathing.

“Yeah that’s me.” Fox grinned sheepishly.

In response, the giant nodded curtly and slung the rifle onto his back, the vulpine absently noting that his armor used some sort of magnetic property to lock the weapon into place.

With him identified the giant seemed content with sitting in silence, which only sought to unnerve the vulpine further.

“Come on out guys.” Fox called, watching as his team stream in with hesitation, soon equally rendered awestruck at the size and natural intimidation given to the large soldier.

The tension was quite obvious to all as the man offered no words.

It was only broken when Slippy, as his name suggested, had a slip of tongue.

“Wow you’re big.”

Hearing the sound of his own voice made the toad squeak and clamp his mouth shut, glancing up at the stranger as if he would take offense at his offhanded statement.

The silence became deafening as they all waited to see what his reaction was, and were stunned by the discordant sound of his chuckle.

_“What you speak is true little frog.”_

“Actually, I’m a toad.” Slippy replied automatically, having been confused with his fellow amphibians for most his life. And, amusingly, upon hearing that he had spoken again the toad released another yelp and clamped his mouth shut.

_“Hmm…so you are.”_ The man replied neutrally.

His stance shifted slightly and he reached once more for his weapon.

_“I am correct in assuming that you all are here with a likeminded goal?”_ He was of course referring to his plan on taking out Andrew Oikonny. It was a logical assumption, they would no doubt wish to see the enemy leader dead, mayhap more than he did. Six was merely here to facilitate his need for battle and defend innocents from what he had been told of these foes’ intentions.

“Yes, we must stop Oikonny while we still can.” Fox nodded assertively, regaining some of his lost confidence.

_“Then in this instance we are allies once more. I will lead…if there is no disagreement with that?”_ He inquired with what they could have sworn was amusement.

“By all means, if you wanna soak up all the lasers be my guest.” Falco shrugged, shouldering his weighty blaster. The avian was unwilling to back down from his usual antics, giant death warrior or not.

Miyu widened her eyes and turned to see what the other’s response would be.

The stranger regarded Falco with his impassive silver mask, nodding after a few moments.

_“As you wish….I doubt your scrawny feathered form would whether a storm of lasers as well as I.”_ With that the armored warrior turned and proceeded to take the next passageway up towards the dreadnought’s bridge with the resounding thunder of his massive boots.

Miyu giggled and grinned widely at the avian’s dumbstruck beak before following the giant’s departure. If he could make a good jest on Falco’s expanse then he couldn’t be that bad of a guy.

Krystal eyed his retreating form, continuously surprised by his actions. For all her skill, she could not gain a successful analysis of him. Perhaps time would tell?

With that she gripped her staff firmly and followed her feline friend with the rest of her team.

 

*****

 

Six held back an irritated groan.

With these aliens following along his speed and abilities would be severely hampered. But he would rather have them where he could keep a close eye on them. The spartan had very little trust to give, and if they proved to be enemies and broke what miniscule amount he had placed in them, he wished to be close, to enact his retribution.

Despite his slowed pace, the furred aliens had a difficult time keeping pace with his grueling stride, his boots eating up the distance a meter at a time. Seeing them lag, he released a pent up sigh and slowed, just enough for them to plod after him.

If anything they would be useful in absorbing enemy fire.

The spartan did not have a very high opinion of aliens, covenant or not. The sundering of his homeworld made him into a bitter creature at times. They should be thankful he did not accept their first greeting with weapons fire, as pleasing as that thought had first been, he refrained. It would have been foolish to make a move without further intelligence. And once this battle was over, he intended to acquire enough to plan his next action.

Six halted, a bulkhead impeding further progress. It would seem that the enemy had locked down the ship in the stir of his arrival. This was not the first barrier placed against him on this ship. But, he could see that it was of a different sturdier make then the other. That could only mean he was nearing his goal.

Seeing the daunting barrier, the irksome bird chose to open his aggravating beak once more.

“So wise guy, what do we do now?”

Six reeled back a thickly armored fist and plunged it into the bulkhead, his fearsome strength carving through the weak alien metal. With an opening made he reached his other gauntlet in and forced the obstacle open, the high pitched groan of tortured metal screeching rampantly in the hallway. Soon he had ripped it open sufficiently enough for his prodigious bulk and lurched through, his shields activating as lasers erupted from the now open doorway. The enemy defenders startled into surprised action, stunned that someone had physically torn it open with their hands.

The spartan briskly surveyed the area.

It would seem that he had arrived at the bridge, a vast area of lit up duty stations were staged equally throughout the open chamber and a wide viewport afforded a look at the outside battle in real time. And it seemed that the side he had elected to fight for was winning. The number of enemy ships had dropped since last he saw and the rest looked to be in the midst of a fighting withdrawal.

A beam of energy sparking of his glimmering shields reminded the spartan of his current battleground. The bridge crew was cowering behind their machines as what he could only assume to be the security team attempted to bring him down with concentrated volleys of their weak laser weapons, the thin lasers meekly fizzing against his barriers.

At the rate his shields were dropping, he was not overly concerned by it.

In a flash of movement, the magnum at his side was released from its magnetic clamp and the small weapon barked in rapid succession, the security team’s corpses hitting the deck in sync with the shells flying out of the sidearm’s ejection port. 

The smoke drifted from the heated barrel and he returned it to his side.

If they had only been that infuriating avian.

Six scanned the bridge, searching for the enemy leader. He did not know what he looked like, but judging from his attitude, his apparel would suitably match his inane speech.

Behind him, the members of Starfox entered through the breach he had made and saw once more his swift and deadly handiwork. The bridge crew of the dreadnought offered no resistance as they trembled by their stations, waiting for the giant to dole out its judgment.

But Six stayed his hand, expending ammunition on them would be wasteful. He was running off a limited supply, what he had on him and what was stored on his sabre. There was no telling if it would be enough to see him through this and so he would have to be tight with his consumption.

The spartan, as reluctant as he was, had an idea.

_“Is he here?”_ Six asked, turning to the team. They would know what the enemy leader looked like.

The orange furred vulpine did a swift once over of the bridge before frowning.

“No…he’s not.”

That was…unfortunate.

Six looked out the bridge and saw a small craft no bigger than a pelican, speeding away.

“Oikonny…” Fox muttered angrily, the spartan needed no aid in deciphering that.

 

 


	4. Verdict

Legacy of the Precursors

Chapter 3: Verdict

 

 

When it was all said and done, the CDF’s casualties were mercifully few. Besides the one unfortunate cruiser and some fighters, no other vessels were lost. This had been one of the few battles in recent memory to so completely end in Corneria’s favor, and the air of victory was tangible.

Fox watched as the CDF boarding party cleared the hanger of the captured dreadnought, muzzles upturned in revulsion as they stuffed broken corpses into black nylon bags. The methods and equipment of the one he had come to call Six, were not in the lands of restraint or subtly.

They in fact, left quite a mess.

Despite this, the moods of the defense personnel present were high, unhindered by the carnage present before their eyes. This was a major triumph, a decisive blow to the remaining forces of Venom, as well as a warning.

Corneria was far from defenseless; it still had fangs and could bite if necessary.  

After this attack, the vulpine would not be surprised if General Pepper and Prime Minister Daala drafted a new war funds act. If he was tired of the venomians and their war lust, then he could rest assured they were as well, which could only mean that the team would be back in business again, a juxtaposition of relief and concern rose inside his chest. The assurance of more well-paying jobs did little to belly the gravity of another war.

Further youths would be enlisted for the military, and more lives would be lost in the name of their republic. War was a brutal mistress and she did not often, if ever, deal in benevolence.

“Seems to me that another war is coming...”

Fox turned to Falco, the avian standing by his side.

“So it would seem…” Fox agreed with a solemn tilt of his muzzle. 

“At least we can start getting paid real money again.”

Fox chuckled sardonically. “As always, your eyes lay on the credits.”

“Is it so bad wanting to get something out of this? Don’t we deserve a little compensation?” The avian demanded.

“Perhaps and perhaps not, I haven’t decided yet...” Fox muttered thoughtfully, watching as the CDF soldiers screened the surviving venomian crew before shipping them down to the surface on a wave of shuttles. No doubt they were going to be taken to the federal prisons, not necessarily a bad way to sit out the war.

“Bah!” Falco scoffed and folded his feathered arms grouchily.

Leaving the avian to his exasperated thoughts, Fox instead looked to the point of many of the CDF’s and his team’s interest.

Working over his peculiar fighter, Six seemed to be in the process of taking inventory, delving through a large matte black bag and arranging a growing arsenal of weapons and munitions on the deck beside him.

He was a remarkable individual in many regards.

Upon clearing the bridge and discovering that their target had already fled, the large man had studiously turned away and left without a word or backwards glance. Since then no one had tried to instigate conversation with him, a far too intimidating prospect.

Fox did not know where he had come from. But he had a few ideas. Everything about him screamed alien, his weapons, armor, gear, and ship. All of it was unlike anything currently manufactured in system. Not only that, but neither the CDF nor venomian army had developed infantry portable shields, the closest thing they had to equate was Fox’s own small prototypical device, which paled in comparison.

The vulpine had watched in awe as the venomian blasters deflected off the golden aura that had encompassed the hulking warrior. The speed and lethality in which he had eliminated his enemies was impressive, frightening, and more than a little hard to believe considering how cumbersome his armor should have been. All of this spoke of a man who had lived through more than his fair share of conflicts. And since he had never once heard of a nigh invincible soldier of fortune at any point in his life, Fox could only conclude that he was from a place far from Lylat.

What that boded, he did not know.  But Fox was hesitant to let him out of his sights. As it stood, he still wanted the man’s assistance, especially after seeing his combat prowess. Fox knew he was hasty in his wish to recruit him. Yet there were many reasons for it. If this man could be swayed to their side they would gain a serious tactical advantage over Venom. And if he was on their side, he wouldn’t be on Oikonny’s, not that he suspected the man of joining the posturing ape.

As the CDF units filtered through the ship, he had contacted Pepper and informed him of his discoveries and conclusions about their mysterious guest. Initially the aged canine had wanted to bring him in for questioning, but Fox had hastily suggested that they withhold on that. There was little chance they could detain him if he so desired to resist.

Instead he had offered a counter argument.

If they could convince this warrior to fight for them, they would gain a powerful ally and have a better opportunity at learning his secrets. Pepper had not been enthusiastic with the vulpine’s suggestion but he did see the merit it held and greenlit the operation.

But that was something easier said than done. Fox found it hard to scrounge up the courage to approach him, remembering having been down the man’s sights once before.

Why would he even agree? He had known them for the entirety of seven hours and if Fox’s suspicions were true, he had no ties to them in any way, race or otherwise. But he would be damned if he wouldn’t try.

Fox moved to head towards the bulky warrior when he spotted a pair of familiar females already heading towards him.

_‘Oh…this could not possibly end well.’_

 

*****

 

The tidings were grim.

Six took stock of his weapons and ammo and his already present frown deepened.

In the terms of UNSC gear, he had one MA37, one M45 Tactical Shotgun, an M6G Magnum, and a SRS 99-S2 AT Sniper Rifle, with varying amounts of ammunition for each, overall not much to rely on. But he did have an added bonus.

He discovered two additional weapons in the emergency kit underneath the pilot’s seat, an M392 Designated Marksman Rifle with a series of customizable attachments and a SOCOM pilot’s variant of the standard marine issued submachinegun. He found it curious since their production had been discontinued until a better design could be made. Still, it would suffice if he needed a stealth operation completed.

As for covenant arms, he had the plasma repeater and the needler rifle. But both weapons would have to be marginalized extensively if he wished to conserve their ammo, especially if he could not innovate a means to charge the plasma weapon.  

It was a descent arsenal but most likely inadequate in his new environment. He had been tempted to take one of the enemy’s laser weapons, but they were terribly ineffective in his mind and were fitted to different hands than his. The aliens’ paws were not that different from human hands, but different enough to make grasping their weapons an awkward task. Their furred digits were thicker and shorter than an average human’s, and it showed in the size and construct of the trigger guard and grip. The spartan would only use their equipment when if unavoidable or he found one that suited his requirements.

Staring at his assemblage of weapons, the spartan could not help but wonder if there was even a point to all of this. His gaze was drawn to the strange furry aliens in the process of confiscating their newly acquired vessel.

He found it all terribly ironic.

The UNSC had tried for years to take a covenant vessel and had never met success. And now he had been able to capture a vessel singlehandedly, but not for humanity and not from the covenant, rather a different alien race for this odd collection of beings he now found himself surrounded by.  

Six held back the acrimonious and contemptuous scoff he felt rising to the surface of his mind.

What a waste of his abilities.  

Not only had he been denied his honorable death, but it seemed that whatever deities ruled his existence had been unable to resist playing one last trick on him. This was not what he had in mind when he had activated the bomb.

By now he was more than certain that he was no longer in any place he could deem as familiar. This false version of Reach could only mean that he no longer had contact with the UNSC, and most likely never would.

He was effectively severed from all his preceding ties of allegiance.

But what to do with his newfound freedom?

The only moments he had felt at peace since arriving in this bizarre realm had been during combat. With it now over his mind was returning to its embittered thoughts, threatening to drive him insane.

With a partial tilt of his helm he exiled the approaching hell storm of enraged frustration and instead resumed his methodical practice of cataloging, hoping the habituated process of taking inventory would quell his torrent of resentment before it reached a critical level.

As he neatly arranged the magazines for his rifle, stacking them in orderly rows along the bottom lining of the duffle bag, he heard voices off to the side. Now, Six’s senses were acute, especially with the assistance of his MJOLNIR, but he had long since disregarded the aliens around him, seeking solace in the familiar.

But, he could detect that the two voices currently in conversation with one another had him as their topic. Without a doubt they thought he could not hear their mutterings from such a distance, but they had no idea how powerful his hearing was, compounded by the amplifying abilities of his powered armor.

“Come on, look at the guy, we should do something.” The vocals came crisp and clear through his helm, all background noise filtered away by the audio suite.

With his augmentation, Six could memorize targeting data and vital information upon first hearing or seeing it, so he had no difficult deciphering the owner of the voice. It was that feline pilot from before, the one that had stolen his kill.

“I do not think it would be wise to pursue this course of action, better to leave him alone.”

The voice of reason was none other than that oddly colored female vulpine.

Shifting his eyes to the left allowed the spartan to see the two close to his ship, but not too close to attract the attention of a normal person. Unfortunately for them he was no normal person. War had turned the spartan-III into a cautious man.

The cat sat lounging on a crate of freshly loaded supplies and the fox was standing beside her, obviously in discomfort.

Six would never admit it, but her anxiety amused him.

“Hey, he’s part of our team now. We have an obligation to him” The cat argued in his defense, for what he was unaware.

“Briefly…he was briefly a part of our team.” The vixen denied adamantly.

Six was not quite sure what he had done to gain the fox’s ire, not that he would care.

The spartan heard the cat scoff and start to move, jumping off the crate. “You are not acting like yourself Krystal. Fine, I’ll go on my own.”

“M-Miyu, spirits damn you!” The vixen spluttered before she stumbled after her bold companion.

Six turned to watch them approach, unhurriedly loading a fresh batch of shells into his shotgun, intending to store the weapon away.

The feline eyed the scatter weapon warily as she stopped at the edge of his subconsciously established safe zone.

“Howdy there partner, you did good work out there today. I’m impressed. You’ll have to show me some of those tricks of yours later.” She was clearly attempting to broker a friendly atmosphere with him.

In response, Six finished loading his weapon and pumped the receiver, his silver visor staring blankly back at her.

The spartan was not good at reading animalian body language. But he was confident that the way her tail was standing straight up like a rod implied he was projecting a not so pleasant aura as she. 

Six let her sweat for a few extra seconds before he dained to respond. He did not wage war for attention or recognition; he fought because it was what he had been born to do. War fabricated the entirety of his existence.

_“I have no need for praise.”_

The cat recovered with admirable swiftness, shaking off his intentional antipathy without an outward sign of displeasure.

“Oh come one. Everybody needs a little applause now and again.”

_“I am not everybody.”_ He refuted blandly.

“Heh…I can see that.” The cat conceded with a loose chuckle, nervously picking at the tactical webbing on her impressive bosom. No doubt a normal man might have been easily seduced by such an exotic woman, but her feminine properties held no sway over him. That part of his humanity had died long ago.

Still, he decided that being obstinate would get him nowhere. For now he should at least attempt to be cordial with her and the other aliens.

_“Your aptitude for flight is commendable,”_ was the best he could offer.

For whatever reason, his bland factual statement elicited a broad smile and husky chuckle from the curvaceous feline. “See, a little praise can go a long way.” The cheshire grin of hers shifted to something more inviting.

Whatever she was insinuating was beyond his comprehension, but the vixen was eyeing her friend in mortification.

Six’s patience was not infinite. The spartan rested the shotgun on his shoulderplate.

_“Why have you come here?”_

If further daunted, the feline did not show it. Instead she walked around him to lean against his sabre with a pout that would stir up the hot blood of most males with its enticing promises, but had no effect on the spartan.

“Is it so bad that I wanted to strike up some friendly conversation?”

Six was nonplussed as how to respond. He had very little experience with females in either the army or the civilian populace. Kat was a spartan and therefore an exception. And now, he was not only faced with a female, but an alien female. The only aliens he neared were treated to the serrated edge of his combat knife. For the first time in a long time, he was uncertain. Six was not a sociable man by any means like Jorge had been, he lacked the big man’s…finesse, when it came to things like this. The few noncombatants he interacted with tended to die unpleasant deaths. The covenant was a terrible foe and it was all but impossible to fight them and keep civilians safely out of the crossfire, the pious aliens often purposely seeking them out. Even the marines under his command did not tend to live longer than the ones they were tasked with defending.

Six could not afford to let people get close to him, not anymore. Noble team had been a grim aide-mémoire of this fact.

_“It could be.”_ He replied, his typically confrontational and curt voice holding little of its subconscious menace. The spartan unconsciously placed a gauntlet on his breastplate, resting his gloved hand on the latch of a closed magazine container, what had once held ammunition now cradling something of symbolic importance to him.

The feline’s contrived pout slowly disappeared, replaced by a look of thoughtful intrigue. Where Krystal’s abilities were inherited with her powers, Miyu had gained a natural sort of sixth sense when it came to others. And while it was difficult to cypher through his closely guarded words, she could tell he had been the victim of a lot of hurt in his life.

Usually, teasing men was a game to her. Miyu had long ago learned that most men did not speak with her because of her sparkling personality. And so she had decided to give as she got, fighting back with feminine wiles. But that was all they were, empty verses and actions that she had used enough that they were almost second nature. It was no surprise she was an excellent judge of the quality and veracity of other people’s words.

So the cat was quite startled when she thoughtlessly threw away her usual repertoire of rehearsed rhetoric, leaning forwards from the large starship with a fierce grin. “Well big guy, I ain’t a fan of backing down, which means that you’re just going to have to deal with a little affable chatter.”

With other men she would have given up once receiving the cold shoulder. But with him, she felt the desire to keep pushing, why she did so, remained indeterminable.

Krystal studied her friend closely. The vixen had gotten to know the feline for quite some time, and she was able to tell that this varied from Miyu’s normal practice of pursuing males. What she could not tell, was why the cat’s efforts caused a pang of jealousy to coalesce in her heart. 

Why would she care if Miyu tried to beguile the brutish man? He was a pigheaded ruffian and a coarse one at that. She had seen better etiquette from Falco, and that avian was insufferably ill-mannered almost every second of the day. It was only with great restraint that she had not thrown herself at him with claws bared.

_“Very well…”_

The unwelcomingly familiar rawness of the armored giant’s speech, dragged the vixen from her irritable musing and she shifted her muzzle back up to see him staring at Miyu, although she had the distinct feeling that the gaze hidden underneath that silvery screen roamed past the feline and the hanger behind her, even past the vastness of space itself, beyond what normal eyes could ever aspire to see. And for a brief nearly imperceptible moment, she could sense a fraction of what he concealed behind his closely guarded mind…grief.

What had he lost to make him feel so much pain? Only she had felt this, Miyu remaining hopelessly oblivious.

“That’s more like it!” The cat exclaimed in flamboyant satisfaction at having made some headway.

_“What do you…wish to speak of?”_ The lack of enthusiasm and foreboding reluctance that all but oozed from the armored warrior held stock that his stance firmly opposed hers.

“Well….” The cat’s response died on her lips. She had not expected that he would actually cave in to her questioning and had not thought that far ahead.

Thankfully, she was rescued by the arrival of Fox, the vulpine entering the conversation with his trademark grin, the one that you could see plastered on almost every recruitment poster from Corneria to Fortuna. The army had no problem with using his likeness to boost recruitment rates across the system. Everyone had heard of Fox Mccloud and his series of successful campaigns against Andross. He was a system wide hero and famous celebrity.

After all this time, he still wasn’t sure what to think about that.

The way the cornerian populace seemed to, glorify his tales was…unsettling. The vulpine was not afraid to admit it. He killed people for a living, that’s what mercenaries did. But to become famous from it, to receive admiration and publicity, that didn’t feel right to him.

“I’m glad to see you all getting along so well.” The vulpine observed with a relieved chuckle, concealing his disturbed thoughts with his usual cheer.

Krystal wouldn’t call what they were doing, ‘getting along’. It felt more like he was simply tolerating their presence. And what tolerance he had was quickly fading, evident by his subtly tightened grasp on his weapon.

“Yeah, he’s a big softy under all that plate I tell ya.” Miyu slapped his forearm comradely, her paw unable to reach any higher.

Fox watched in trepidation as the behemoth of a warrior stiffened at the feline’s touch and his shotgun twitched. But, thankfully it remained firmly rested on his shoulder and the vulpine sighed quietly in relief.

The cat was playing with fire, and if she kept this up, she was likely to get burned…or shot full of holes. Neither would be pleasant.  

“Anyways…..” Fox dragged on, turning to the looming man himself.

The giant’s helmet rotated to the vulpine and the flat silver stare from his visor interrupted Fox’s chain of thought. That solid impenetrable wall of shining silver was…unnerving to say the least. Fox was reminded that he had no idea what the man looked like underneath his obscuring helm, or what he was thinking. There was no facial que to read, no telling shift of the brow or crinkle of fur on the cheek. All he had to go on was his voice alone, and that in itself was an almost impossible nut to crack.

Fox coughed awkwardly in the developing silence and cleared his throat, getting down to why he had walked over in the first place.

“You did excellent work out there today. Not any old pilot can take down a venomian battlecruiser and then guide a wounded ship back home. If you were in the CDF you would have definitely received a medal for valor in combat. But…since you are not technically affiliated with us, all I can offer is my gratitude.”

The soldier’s helmet twitched a fraction, an action that Fox would not have been able to notice without his sharp eyes. What it signified he did not know, but he doubted it was a good thing.

_“I did not fight for gratification, or for renown.”_

“Then….why did you fight?”  Krystal inquired, her turquoise gaze, narrowing on his hulking frame suspiciously.

_“That, is an answer I will keep for myself.”_ He replied guardedly.

Fox placed a halting paw on the vixen’s shoulder before she could launch a caustic tirade at the unyielding warrior. He was certain that it would not help his chances at trying to recruit Six.

“Of course, we respect your privacy.” Fox flashed the vixen a warning glare, Krystal snorting and crossing her arms in distaste.

Fox knew she would have words with him later, especially after what he would say next, but for now, he needed everything to go perfectly.

Six hesitantly released a small thankful nod, nothing more than a quick dip of his helmet and Fox knew that this was his only chance to ask.

“There is however…one other thing I can offer you.”

“You cannot be serious, Fox?” Krystal huffed in indignation, glaring daggers into the vulpine’s back. She knew what he wished to ask, and judging from her response, was not thrilled with the prospect.

All Miyu did was grin.

Fox ignored Krystal and focused on the one in front of him.

“I would like to propose a place on my team, if you would accept.” Knowing that his potentially new member might speedily decline, Fox was quick to explain the prospective benefits.

“If you were to join, you would of course earn an equal share of the profits and have a place to stay as well as berth your fighter. This would also include access to the team’s resources and intelligence.”

Fox watched as his words sunk in, cursing the obliqueness of the soldier’s visor. It gave no clues as to what he was thinking.

“So…what do you say, you in?” The vulpine asked hopefully.

The other pilot did not respond for several tense moments, Fox starting to wither under that piercing and yet impervious silver mask.

_“I have no need for currency.”_ He declared jaggedly.

Fox winced.

_“However….”_

The vulpine looked up hopefully.

_“I will think on your offer. Give me a few minutes alone.”_ His visor was pointedly directed at the trio.

“Of course, take all the time you need.” Fox grinned broadly, all his fabled charm and warmth flowing back into him. The orange furred vulpine ushered his team away, letting the man ruminate with his thoughts.

 

*****

 

Six’s hidden eyes watched as the strange party of aliens departed, passing through the slowly emptying hanger back towards their cohorts. The cerulean vixen seemed to be in an animated discussion with the other one of her species. And from his look, he was receiving quite the verbal thrashing. It did not take a genius to see why she was upset.

He had been just as if not more heated when he had been told of his new orders to join Noble Team, although he had handled his aggression far more effectively. It was no easy thing, bringing a new person into the fold. A team needed to trust each other without reservation or doubt if they would ever stand a chance of working together. This had been easier for him and Noble Team. They were spartans. No matter the friction as a team, they would watch each other’s backs, even give their lives if need be...and they had.

No.

What he was concerned about was whether he should accept the proposal.  Six didn’t know what he was doing anymore, he hadn’t since he awoke in his sabre and stepped aboard this crazy train of his new reality. He had blindly rushed into a conflict he knew nothing about and taken lives he knew not exactly what they had done wrong to deserve such a fate. That all stemmed off of one crucial fact.

He needed information.

Unfortunately, as it stood presently, his best outlet of knowledge was this strange alien mercenary company.

Six was not a fan of mercenaries, and he would rather die than stoop to their level.

Or at least he would have before all of this befell him. Now, it would have to be a necessary evil, one that twisted his gut nonetheless.

His thoughts were still plagued with the knowledge that he no longer was in a position to fulfill his duty to humanity, or if there was even a humanity to serve. His life had come crashing down around him, like Reach’s orbital elevator.

He had no pre-structured path to follow, no chain of command to lead him. For once, the way he directed his life was his choice alone to make.

It frightened him.

Since he had been taken by ONI, he had lived by their authoritarian rules and strict regulations, following their exacting commands without hesitation. That austerely controlled environment had been what he was raised with, molded into an assassin who held no trace of hesitation in his duty, a warrior that fought without the fear of death, only defeat and failure held any sway over his heart. He had killed his first man at the age of ten, and the body count only rose exponentially higher as the years passed. He knew exactly how many lived he had taken, both alien and human. It was a number that even he did not wish to think about, far exceeding a thousand.

Now, he was forced to be his own master.

The spartan-III sighed in resignation, his decision made.

 

*****

 

“Are out of your mind, Fox?!”

The vulpine grinned weakly as he weathered the vixen’s fierce diatribe. He had a feeling that she would be opposed to his offer, but he had not anticipated the level at which she would make her displeasure known.

“Come on Krys.”

“Don’t you come on Krys me!” She cut him off with an annoyed bark. “Why you insist on recruiting this absolute stranger is beyond me. He may have helped us, but why? We know nothing about him, why he’s here, who he is, or what his intentions are.”

“That’s why I asked him Krys.” Fox retorted evenly, watching as the vixen suddenly ceased her rant and eyed him suspiciously.

“Say again?”

“That’s why I asked him.” Fox repeated. “This is our best and only chance of having these questions answered. As it stood I doubted we could just force what we wanted to know out of him. You saw what he did to those venomian soldiers. I for one would rather stay on his good side. And if we could have him fight for us in the meanwhile all the better.”

The vixen’s scowl vanished, supplanted with a pursed lipped frown.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“You were too busy trying to bite my head off.” Fox muttered in exasperation.

“Perhaps I was…too hasty in my assumptions and for that I apologize. I do not know what it is about this man, but he makes me wary.” Krystal briefly looked past her shoulder at the stranger, currently in the process of stowing away his gear, whatever he had planned for it completed.

“Are your senses telling you anything?” Miyu wondered, the feline choosing to jump in now that her friends wrath had been cooled.

“No…” The vixen replied thoughtfully staring into the deck before her hindpaws. “They have been largely quite in regards to this Six character, and that’s why I don’t like this plan. There isn’t a person alive I can’t get a read off of, except him. I am unsure what this means.”

“He can’t be that bad, he fought the venomians. He even saved the CNDF _Honorbound_.” Fox prompted.

“This is true, but why? He did mention that he wished to save civilian lives. But that cannot be all there is to it. He has to be hiding something.”

“All the more reason to let him join.” Miyu advocated. “What better way to gain his trust, than have him work with us? In time he might even come clean on his own.”

With both supporting the idea, Krystal reluctantly caved, her thin black lips pulling into a reluctant grin.

“Alright, if you think this is what we should do, I’ll go along with it. But if he tries to kill us all, don’t blame me for saying I told you so.”

“You won’t have to, Falco will beat you to it I’m sure.” Miyu chuckled.

“What about me beating her?” The avian demanded, the trio having arrived within his earshot.

“Don’t worry about it birdbrain, its nothing.” Miyu retorted easily.

“Sure…” Falco grumbled, not trusting the spotted feline’s words.

“So, Fox, what’d he say?” Fay wondered, the snowy dog’s ears perked curiously.

“Well….he said he would think about it.” The orange vulpine slowly replied.

“So…that’s a no then.” Falco assumed with a shrug. “Ah who cares, I don’t know why you are putting so much effort in hiring this guy.”

“Are you not even the least bit interested in finding out who he is?” Slippy demanded.

“Nope, not at all.” Falco waived off without a hint of concern. “He’s probably just some run of the mill merc, probably even stole the gear he has from some research facility. If anything, I say we try to bring him in to Pepper.”

“If that’s what you want no one’s going to stop you. Be my guest.” Fox gestured towards the daunting armored form of the stranger.

At that moment, Six pulled an exotic curved blade from the metallic sheath bolted on his right shoulderplate, the weapon at least a foot and half in length, keen and razor-sharp. It promised a swift and painful death to anyone unfortunate enough to be his opponent. The soldier dragged the bladed edge at an angle across his forearm plate, fleeting motes of sparks lighting up his cerulean armor as he honed the deadly weapon using his limb as an improvised whetstone. Surely he didn’t use it? Swords had long ago been replaced with the more clean and effective firearm.

Still….

“Nah, I’m good, it was just a suggestion.” Falco backed down coolly. But, there was a hint of hesitation in his response.

The team chuckled at his expense.

“All right, but feel free to change your mind at any time. We’d love to see you take him in.”

“Can it Miyu.” The avian muttered crossly at the giggling feline. He did not find it all that funny.”

Yet all that did was deepen their mirth. Falco did not often get trumped, but when he did it was something everyone could get behind.

_“Mccloud…”_

Like the flick of a switch, their amused chuckles lurched to an abrupt halt.

Standing just behind Fox was Six, the discreet soldier had somehow managed to move behind them without making a sound. How he did so with such bulky armor remained a mystery.

“Oh…uh hey there…Six.” Fox greeted the silent warrior uncertainty, unaccustomed to using the soldier’s given name.

_“I have thought on your…proposal.”_ The man rumbled lowly.

“So, what do you say? You ready to join the best merc team in the Lylat System?” The vulpine grinned up at him expectantly.

_“I…accept.”_ He answered grudgingly, after a painful pause.

Fox ignored the lack of enthusiasm in his tone, combating it with a smile.

“Great, I’m glad that you did. I think you’ll like it here with us.”

Silence greeted him.

Fox coughed loudly. “Right…aaaanyways. Are you ready to go? The Great Fox is close by, just outside the dreadnought. You know what it looks like right?”

_“I can recall your ship chasing me down yes.”_ Six affirmed.

“Right…sorry about that.” Fox winced. “We were just doing our job.”

_“Undoubtedly…”_

“Ready to move out then?”

_“After you….commander.”_ The man did not easily hide his reluctance.

“We don’t use ranks here, Fox works just fine.”

_“As you say, Mccloud.”_

Fox sighed.

This was going to be a long day.


	5. Discord

Chapter 4: Discord

A loud clang rattled the sabre, the exoatmospheric fighter craft jostling against the magnetic docking clamps as they securely sealed to its hull, berthing it inside the belly of its new residence.

Six's eyes traveled past his methodically cluttered HUD and through his tinted canopy, observing the peculiarly designed hanger of this mercenary cruiser.

UNSC vessels maintained well-ordered and industrious fighter berths, achieved by strict military code and supervision of the attending staff assigned by the ship's captain. Everything from the stockpile of spares parts to the on-hand munitions store was meticulously overseen by the crew chief and his subordinates. Nothing was ever out of place and the flight deck was persistently cleared of detritus.

It would seem these aliens did not uphold the same strict standards.

Crates haphazardly littered the hanger floor with little signs of oversight or planning. The spartan could even see what looked like munitions stacked in the corner, a clear violation of UNSC shipboard regulations. Placing unsecured armaments on the deck was grounds for the offender to be reprimanded and even dismissed from the vessel if the captain so desired. In the likely event of combat, such materials could accidentally or purposefully be activated, whether by the luck of enemy fire or bungling crewman.

The only similarity they displayed was in the method they moored their fighters. Due to capacity restraints, standard cruiser weight vessels suspended their strike craft via docking clamps, freeing up additional room on the flight deck and preventing the obstruction of crew and materials.

It was not exactly like UNSC docking methods. Despite the size of this vessel, the hanger was smaller than he suspected. It only had enough room to house maybe ten to fifteen fighters of their dimensions and they were spaced farther apart than he felt was necessary, not utilizing valuable ship space. He suspected a hanger of this size would have only been capable of holding four longswords; they were several magnitudes larger than these alien craft. It was fortunate that sabres were designed to be much smaller than a GA-TL1; otherwise it would not have fit in the berth.

The gantry he used to suspend his sabre was at the end of the line of mechanized lofts. Only six of the fifteen were currently in use, which led the spartan to assume they were shorthanded. Perhaps they had more need of someone of his skills then he thought? It made sense considering how irrational it had been to seek to employ him with little regards to his past or future plans. From what he saw, they could certainly use more pilots. They had been outnumbered by the enemy, although victory had been attained, he imagined it could have gone down very differently if this mercenary team had not been present.

He had seen their cruiser in action. It was a powerful vessel, capable of standing against stacked odds. It had accounted for at least a quarter of the enemy's lost ships. And they had done much to nullify the enemy's large quantity of fighters.

The spartan could see the team of mercenaries exiting their ships. He could dwell on post-combat statistics later. It was time to speak with his...superior.

The unspoken word still managed to leave a foul taste on his lips, even worse than the lingering metallic tang of his own blood. To willingly serve under an alien...covenant or otherwise, it was enough to make his subconscious rebel.

This would be the most difficult assignment of his career as a spartan supersoldier. Even Reach's collapse had not chafed at him so.

Six pulled the handle at his side and disengaged the canopy's lock, the armored cover retracting from the cockpit and allowing him to climb out, sliding down the side and to the gantry connected to his fighter.

The spartan's titanium alloy greaves fell upon the industrial grate pathway with a loud clang, the metal straining against his extraordinary weight, more than half a ton of killing potential crafted to his muscular frame. Thankfully, it held and his mass did not warp the steel.

Six closed and locked his sabre, reluctantly leaving it behind. He still did not trust these aliens and probably never would. It was difficult for him to go without his equipment, but at least he carried his sidearm with him, not that he felt he needed it.

If necessary he knew he would be more than a match for any of these aliens. For whatever reason, they were shorter than standard non-augmented humans, which meant that they would be naturally weaker in the category of strength, but this was offset by their animalistic traits, claws, fangs and the like, which would place them on equal terms with a non-spartan. However, with his MJOLNIR and enhanced strength he doubted he would even have need of a weapon. 

Yet, he reminded himself to not rely so heavily on his armor's abilities. Like his instructors had told him many years, a soldier's greatest weapon is not their equipment, but their mind.

The spartan made his way towards Fox, the vulpine was the leader of this ragtag team of misfits, which meant that he now reported directly to him.

That would take some getting used to.

The group of aliens watched his advance with clear signs of unease. It was apparent they did not quite trust him yet either.

Perhaps they were not as foolish as he first anticipated?

Stopping in front of the orange furred vulpine, Six assumed parade rest, gauntlets clasped firmly together and placed at the center of his lower back. The performance was...difficult, his body instinctively fighting against him. Showing respect to an alien was galling, but as much as he disliked it, this...man, was now his acting commander.

"Captain Mccloud...." He attempted to greet the vulpine as civilly as was possible, but he could not keep all of the reluctant frustration from his voice, revealed in the slight growl that vented from deep within his chest.

In an action that irritated Six, the fox smiled past his anger and even managed to greet him with an air of comradery and that insufferable grin.

"Hey Six, didn't I say there were no ranks here? Please, just call me Fox, none of that captain or Mccloud junk."

Six's unseen gauntlets tightened into fists.

Such blasé disregard for any structured command or protocol scraped against the spartan's principles.

"Is that an order...Sir?"

"Order...?" The vulpine's muzzle twisted in confusion. "No. It's just a request."

Six could see now, the vulpine was indeed clever.

This must be a veiled test to see how he would respond to these...requests in the future. ONI had tested him many times like this before they were satisfied enough to release him on his first assignment.

"As you say, Fox..."

"There, that's much better." Fox cleared his throat officiously. "Now that you are aboard, I would like to properly welcome you to the team and you can see the last member of the crew." The vulpine reached for the odd device wrapped around his wrist and spoke into it. "Hey Peppy, head on down to the common room, you should meet our newest team member."

"New team member, dear me, it would seem I have missed a great deal. I will be down shortly."

The voice was old, older than any present, Six was curious as to how timeworn this individual was. By the sound of it, he should have put down the gun many years ago,

Fox dropped his paw to his side and turned to Six. "Follow me. It will be best to conduct this in the common room. And after the little meet and greet, I'll show you to your private quarters and help you get settled in."

Six found this...perplexing.

His previous commanders had made no attempt to...get to know him. They had simply thrust the next data slate of information into his gauntlets and sent him on his way. The spartan decided that this must be another one of the vulpine's tests.

"After you, Sir." 

Fox groaned.

"Ugh, none of that Sir, stuff either. Seriously dude, just call me Fox."

Six nodded hesitantly.

This one was as crafty as his name suggested. There must be some grand scheme at work here. No matter, he would get to the bottom of it eventually.

Seeing the spartan nod in confirmation, Fox led the way out of the hanger.

Six decided to stay in the back of the small party. Having no desire to leave his back exposed.

As he followed, Six studied the internals of the ship.

The interior was just as alien as the exterior. The corridors were spacious and well lit, lined with silver and blue, a normal human might have even gone so far as to call it warm or friendly.

Six thought it was too damn bright.

Although, given their short stature, the spartan was surprised that the hallways were tall enough for his extensive height, even if just barely.

Any form of acrobatics would be inadvisable.

Many doors were spaced in even intervals along the sides of the corridor, no doubt crew quarters. The one at the far end on the right hand side had a holographic label atop the doorway that read Infirmary.

Six doubted he would ever have need of it. His boosted immune response system was incredibly resilient and meticulously efficient. Even such a tenacious malady as the common cold would find no ground inside him and he was confident no enemy in this place could seriously wound him.

At the end of the hall was a large pair of doors, opening to reveal an elevator much like a cargo lift. It should be able to hold his weight, even with the addition of the aliens.

His assumption proved correct when the lift managed to safely activate, although there was some difficulty during the initial ascent.

The avian made some remark as to his weight, and Six refrained from decorating the interior with the fowl's inoperable grey matter.

In other words it was a pleasant ride.

Exiting the lift revealed another corridor of similar nature as to its predecessor, with the exception of the nearest left side door, which was the ship's engineering and mechanics sector.

Six admitted that he was somewhat curious as to what the inner functions of the ship might be. Long operations behind enemy lines meant that he had to be able to tackle many unsuspected scenarios. So he had been trained in many fields, dressing wounds and preforming emergency battlefield surgery, repairing vehicles, how to properly snap the cervical vertebrae and efficiently sever the spinal cord, maintenance on his MJOLNIR armor, all standard information that anyone should know. 

From this the spartan had developed a minor aptitude and fondness for things of mechanical nature. Another lesson his instructors had imparted on him was the need for respecting and maintaining ones equipment. If your mind was your greatest asset, then your gear was what helped keep it in one piece.

He decided to possibly investigate the room later, after Mccloud finished with his inane introductions. Six did not need or care for the knowledge of who he worked alongside. If anything, the avian proved that his decision to join had been a mistake. But he would play the vulpine's frivolous game...for now.

All he knew was that he better get the information he was looking for.

The chamber at the end of the hall must have been their destination. He had seen its like before on many of the warships he had been ferried in throughout the war. Regular soldiers needed somewhere to rest and relax with their peers. Spartans did not have need of such luxuries.

They had been bred solely for war. They did not need to unwind...such would only seek to weaken them and ensure critical loss of focus. Besides, no one wished to interact with a spartan. They were after all, just mindless drones, incapable of understanding or exhibiting real human emotion or pain, even as their lives had been ruined and their realities shattered. They were just dangerous creatures, liable enough to kill you just as they would the Covenant.

Six had been content to keep his distance from these dens of preconceived prejudice.

Holding the door open, Mccloud gestured for them all to head inside, Six reluctantly doing so.

The room was large, enough space to house a sizeable group of marines. Much of the cham was filled with impractical amenities, tables, chairs, couches, electronics, and things of that ilk. The only useful object he spied was a device that looked to be a food service provider, a wall mounted machine with a small rectangular portal and list of what could only be meals of some kind, if the pictures were to be believed.

He decided to stick with his MRE's.

The team seemed to know what they were doing because they milled out amidst the room, making themselves comfortable. The frog, (or rather toad as Six humorously recalled), sat beside what appeared to be a hare or rabbit. The wizened gentleman had obviously been around the block a few times, as his whitening fur and slightly stooped appearance would suggest.

Six was at a loss as to what to do so he merely stood in place, waiting for the next thing to happen. This was not like anything he was used to. Once more he questioned not only the events leading up to this, but his entire existence as a whole.

Eventually, he was the last one standing. He supposed it might have been awkward, if a spartan could feel such an emotion.

"Come on, sit down, you're amongst friends." Fox assured him, motioning for the spartan to take one of the many chairs in the room.

Friends...what a presumptuous and false declaration, spartans did not have friends, if anything they had allies. These two things were not analogous with the other and they were certainly neither friend nor ally, merely a group of temporary convenience.

Still, Six did as ordered and sat at one of the chairs as far from the group as he could, selecting one made of steel, figuring it would hold his weight the best. The spartan rested his gauntlets on his thighs, ready to draw his weapon.

"I am sitting..." Six declared matter of factly.

Again, that unbearable grin, "Yeah, you are." The vulpine admitted with a chuckle.

Six suffocated the desire to howl in rage. He had no desire to banter words.

"There was a reason we are here." Six alluded curtly.

'Yes..." That damnable grin and open smile. 

Six's immensely powerful muscles strained against his steadfast discipline, refusing to let his gauntlet reach for the magnum at his side, how easy it would have been to just ensure that damned muzzle could never form that contemptable smirk.

If only the vulpine was aware of how close he danced with death, he might have chosen his words with more care.

Lucky for him and his cohorts, he discontinued his irksome game.

"Since you are a part of the team now, Six, I feel a more comprehensive introduction is warranted. I'll start with myself." He tapped his chest with a claw. "My name's Fox Mccloud. My father started Starfox and after his death I took his place. I'm the tod in charge. That means I make the rules and I expect them to be followed."

The warning was quite clear.

Six was caught by surprise at the sudden forceful authoritative tone in the male vulpine's voice. Perhaps he was not as gutless as the spartan thought. Six felt the dawning of respect for this one, a faint waning ember of respect, but still, respect nonetheless.

"Understood..." Six dipped his helm in acknowledgment.

Fox shifted his claw towards the bird...that damned unendurable pheasant.

"The asshole sitting there is Falco Lombardi, the teams heavy weapons expert. Don't put too much stock into his words, no one else does."

"Hey!" The avian squawked angrily.

Six was startled to feel a slight smile creep onto his visage. Perhaps this vulpine would not be too bad of a commander...perhaps.

"Despite that, he's an excellent pilot and a good soldier. Anything you wanna add?" He asked the bird.

"Nah, you've said enough already." The multicolored avian grumbled, folding his feathered arms crossly.

"Thought I might've." The chuckling vulpine's furred digit passed on to the toad.

"That there's Slippy Toad, he handles all the mechanical needs of the team and his brains as big as his heart. You got something broken or making weird noises, he's your guy."

The amphibian beamed at the praised and blushed.

"Aw shucks, Fox, I'm not that good."

"Just giving praise where it's due." The vulpine replied with a shrug.

That made him curious. He would not have expected the toad to perform such a vital function. He supposed that looks, indeed, were not everything.

"Anyways, the older gentleman in the lab coat there, he's Peppy Hare, the team's tactical coordinator and soundboard. If you ever have something on your mind he's the guy you can talk with."

"Yes, in fact, if you would not mind, I would like to speak with you when you have a moment later." The hare spoke to Six directly, his voice calm and collected.

The spartan was not sure what he wanted, but he supposed that speaking with him would not be too much of a pain.

Six nodded, accepting his request.

Fox thumbed over his shoulder, pointing to that brash feline, who was flashing a fanged grin in his direction.

"Miyu Lynx is the team's interceptor pilot. Her ship is as fast and deadly as her mouth. She's in charge of the Great Fox's armory and maintains security."

"From the looks of it, I might be out of a job. What'd they feed you growing up, steroids?" Her muzzle still had that grin molded to it and she spoke in a husky drawl. It reminded him of a marine he served with briefly. The man had come from Texas, but never had the chance to return.

A brute had ripped his spinal cord from his still living body and used the attached skull as a mace.

Six had taken his time with that one, its death had been...gruesome.

"Amongst other things." Six replied seriously. He was sure that there were many different kinds of steroids in the chemical cocktail they used to turn him into a spartan.

The cat must have thought he was joking, judging by the chuckle she let out. It mattered not if she believed him.

Fox shifted his attention to the snow white canine sitting beside the spotted cat.

"Fay Spaniel is the team's tech specialist, she can hack into just about anything and she helps Slip with the repairs.

The dog must be a shy one, because unlike the others she only meekly waived at him.

He was thankful that at least one of them did not like to run their mouth.

Fox gestured to the room's final occupant, the cerulean vixen sitting next to him.

Six's instincts screamed for him to be wary of this one. He did not know why, but they did not like her at all.

And judging from that hard emerald glare, she shared the same sentiment.

"Last but not least is Krystal. She is my second in command, so her word is as good as mine. She's the team's resident telepath and CQC expert."

Six was not quite sure he heard that right.

"Telepath...?" There were rumors of individuals like that operating in the NAVSPECWAR division, but he was certain it was all just speculation.

"Fox is correct, I am a telepath."

Six could hear no trace of deception in her voice.

Instantly, the spartan shot up from his seat and reached for his sidearm, the action so swift that no one had realized what was happening until the magnum was leveled at the vixen, who serenely gazed up into the barrel of the deadly weapon. No doubt the damnable woman had already been aware of what his response would be. He would not allow the information he carried to be compromised. There were countless ONI secrets and plans stored within.

Fox did not react nearly as calmly as she did.

"What in the fuck?! Six put the damn gun down!" The vulpine barked in shock and anger.

The rest of the team looked to have been stunned into silence by his sudden actions.

The spartan ignored him, speaking to the vixen evenly and directly.

"Have you been in my mind?" If she had, her life would have immediately been rendered forfeit.

She smiled pleasantly, seemingly indifferent to the possibility of death. "No. But not for a lack of trying, you have a well-guarded mind there, Six. It is actually most impressive."

Once more he did not sense any fallacy in her response.

With a curt nod he holstered his magnum and lowered himself back down to his chair.

Fox's eyes flashed between the two of them, taking a heavy exhale and sagging back into his own seat.

"I'm not sure what the hell just happened. But I would appreciate it if you did not aim your gun at your teammates. That's kind of contradictory to what that word means." He muttered as he rubbed the bridge of his snout.

"It will not occur again." Six replied, his ire still firmly locked onto the vixen, who remained smiling as she gazed back at him serenely.

He did not add whether it was a permanent promise.

"Well, that was certainly something." Falco remarked blandly.

"Anyways...if you are done threating the team...?" Fox wondered with a small smile.

Six nodded. As long as they did nothing to jeopardize his well-being, they would remain breathing.

"Then how about you return the favor and introduce yourself?"

Six frowned. He did not like speaking of himself, and was even less enthusiastic of talking about his past.

"What do you wish to know?"

"Oh I don't know? A real name might be a good start." The vulpine replied with a laugh.

Six scowled.

"What I have given you is my real name. It would be in your best interest to respect that. It is not something I dole out often. Most who have gained this knowledge are dead." Six had gone by many names in his career, the covenant had called him and others of his kind demon and the anarchists of the rebel faction had christened him wraith in hushed tones, speaking of the silent killer in the night, the terror of the insurrection. But Six was the name that belonged to him, and only fellow spartans and his superiors held this knowledge.

Fox stopped laughing. The gravity of the spartan's tone weighing in.

"Really, your actual name is Six?" He asked in disbelief. Fox had thought it was just some sort of code word or acronym for something else, not the man's genuine name.

"Yes, whatever I may have been called before has long since faded into forgotten memory."

ONI had revoked his birth name after they took him from the program in an effort to sever all ties from his previous life. He was thusly named for the reason that he was their sixth attempt at creating a spartan that would fit the office's inhuman standards. The first five had either broken down and committed suicide during the brutal training or failed to meet their merciless requirements. And, seeing no other option, he embraced it. He had done what the first five could not...adapt. Six was who he was, the sixth test, a survivor. And with the relentless and brutal war, it paid to be one.

It was just an ironic twist of fate that he had been the sixth member of Noble Team.

"How could you have forgotten your own name?" Miyu asked gently, her fierce amber gaze toned down to a softer level. The thought that your name, the thing that identified who and all that you are, could be lost... It was horrible.

"It was...taken from me." Six admitted after a moment of silence. "But that was a long time ago. What is it next that you wish to know?"

The spartan wanted to finish this unwanted interview as quickly as possible.

Now, Fox was more respectful and courteous when he spoke.

Six found that...appreciative.

"Who exactly are you, Six? Where did you come from?"

There was nothing they could do with this particular set of information, practically every human knew of them. He would be offering these aliens no distinct advantage. Not that they would ever be in a position to use this knowledge in any helpful way.

"United Nations Space Command, special warfare group three, rank First Lieutenant, Spartan-B312 Beta Company." Six recited instinctively, it having been bred and at times beaten into him.

"Beta Company? First Lieutenant? You were a soldier in an army?" Fox had thought he was a mercenary.

"Correct, UNSC naval special forces."

"You're a commando?" Cornerian commandos were the best trained infantryman the republic could field, hardened veterans of countless engagements.

"More than that...I am spartan"

"What is a...spartan?" Slippy asked curiously. They had never heard of one before. 

"UNSC supersoldier, created to protect humanity from threats both internal and external."

"Humanity...? You're not a cornerian?" Miyu asked in astonishment. She had not considered that she was speaking with an honest to god alien.

"Definitely not," he scoffed. To be confused with one of their kind was insulting.

"We've never heard of humans before." Falco eyed him suspiciously. To the avian this sounded far too ludicrous to be believed and he was confident the man was making it up to hide the truth.

"I would think not, my methods of coming here were...dubious. Suffice to say; returning home is not an option"

However, of all of them, the cerulean vixen was still caught up on one word.

"What do you mean by created?"

That question was not one he was uncomfortable with answering.

"Classified information..."

Krystal frowned. Just when he had been starting to peak her interest she hit a proverbial brick wall.

Six did not have an endless well of patience, the spartan turning to Fox.

"I tire of these questions. Is what I have said sufficient for the moment?"

"Sure...that's enough." The vulpine mumbled distractedly, still dwelling on all of this new information. He had not expected for him to reveal so much, and yet. He felt as if Six did not really tell them anything.

"You said there would be a room? I desire solitude."

"Right...right, follow me." Fox rose up from his seat and the spartan followed suit.

Before leaving, he turned to the rest of his team. "Alright, you know the drill. The rest of the day is free." Whether Pepper had more for them to do tomorrow was another matter. Fox did not know to what extent this invasion stood, or if it affected other worlds, but for now he would let them rest. They had earned it. And the vulpine wanted to know a little more about his newest member before he was willing to have him fight alongside the team. Repelling the attack took precedence above this, but now it was over for the moment, he could afford to delve deeper into who exactly he had hired on.

With the orders given, he left the room with the massive soldier in tow.

*****

It was a silent journey to the private crew quarters. For whatever reason, his father made this ship big enough to house a full complement of crew, but with only a handful of people in mind. Fox wished that he could have asked his father why, however that was just one of the countless questions he wished he could have asked him.

If he could have has just one more day with him...

Fox sighed and cleared his head. Now was not the time for those thoughts.

Since there were only seven of them, now eight with Six, they appropriated the rooms nearest to the bridge. They were higher up on the ship and of a better quality than the others. Fox had of course taken the room his father would have, the one right next to the elevator. From there it went down with no real sense of order. Each of them taking which ever room they felt they wanted.

When the elevator opened, Fox and the spartan exited and the vulpine gestured outwards.

"So...which of these tickles your fancy?"

Fox was curious as he studied the giant of blue and white. Six was an alien as he first suspected, but that only made him more inquisitive. What was this UNSC, and what did he mean about being created? As much as Fox wanted to press for information, it was quite obvious that the spartan as he was called, had reached his limit of patience at the moment.

Perhaps later in the day he might try and do a little one on one. But for now, he had enough information to satisfy Pepper's interest. No doubt the canine would want to receive even more after hearing what Fox had to tell him.

Six traveled down the hall, stopping at the door at the very end.

"Sorry, that room's taken, it belongs to Krystal."

The spartan made no outward sign that he understood Fox, but he did turn and take the room opposite.

Fox stepped ahead of the spartan and opened the door, leading him inside.

Flicking the lights, he revealed a comfortably small cabin with a mid-sized bed and desk with similarly proportioned closet and lavatory. It would have been perfectly accommodating for a cornerian, but it was most assuredly not designed with a human in mind.

It was almost comical, seeing such a large individual in such a tiny space. Still, Fox held back any laugh.

"Sorry we don't have anything bigger. We cornerians appear to be smaller than you humans."

"It will service its purpose. All I require is a means of cleansing the blood from within my armor, and other...fluids." Six studied the crimson splatters on his MJOLNIR. Perhaps he should take some care to...minimize, the results of his bloodletting?

That's right! Fox remembered he was wounded.

"Do you need medical assistance? The ship has an Infirmary. MAD can take a look at you."

"I will manage on my own." Six replied stiffly. He did not know what this MAD was, but he could tend to his own needs.

The vulpine did not press the matter. "Well, if you change your mind, the Infirmary's on deck three."

"I will keep that in mind."

Fox suspected he already discarded his suggestion, but smiled anyways.

"You may tell Hare that I will speak with him in three hours' time." The spartan ran a gauntlet across the surface of the desk in his room, the soldier's helmet slowly scanning his new environment.

Fox had to remember that his new team member had been through a lot in the span of a single day. No doubt he wanted some time alone to reflect.

"Sure, he'll be waiting down in the common room." He was not sure if he should press his luck, but it had been bothering him for some time. "You know...Six, you don't have to wear your armor. You're safe here, among friends." He wanted to cement the fact that he was in a place of security. It did not take a genius to see how unhinged Six was. He displayed all the symptoms of a soldier suffering from PTSD, the frayed patience, bouts of anger, and especially how he had reacted to Krystal. Six had seen a possible threat and immediately moved to neutralize it. Fox had seen it all before, during the first Lylat War.

Hearing the vulpine's offer, the spartan deliberately swiveled his helmet to regard Fox. He could almost physically feel the ire lying dormant behind that silver mask.

"Am I? Can you really be so naïve as to assume that I would trust you so easily? That we are friends? Why you have placed so much trust in me already is something I cannot fathom. You barely know who or what I am. You know not what I may do. Yet I am among you now, inside your fortress. If I so desired I could kill you all with little effort or remorse. Why...why have you placed so much trust in me?" Six demanded with unexpected fury, his voice seething with rage. It seemed that all of his repressed emotions had found a temporary crack in his otherwise impervious emotional barricade and were now spewing from the fissure.

And yet...Fox could detect more confusion than hate. There was far more to his question then what he asked.

"I have faith." Fox replied simply, smiling kindly up at the murderous warrior.

This seemed to genuinely baffle the spartan, halting his boiling rage in its furious tracks. The crackling flames of his ire ceased as fast as they had ignited, leaving a strange coldness in the air.

"Faith...?" He rumbled quietly, his helmet turning to the floor. The spartan's gauntlets unclenched and his shoulders sagged, virtually undetectable to the vulpine.

Fox took a step forward. "I have faith that you are a good man. That moment you offered your help because innocent lives were on the line I knew I could trust, that I might call you a friend. No evil man would selflessly risk his life for others. And only a truly good one would do so without hesitation. And a hero would put himself at risk to save a ship of a thousand souls when they could have easily turned a blind eye and no one would blame them."

For once, the spartan's voice held no spite or anger...only unseen emotion, the crack in his defenses already mending.

"I am no hero, Mccloud. You know not of the deeds I have done, the lives I have taken."

Fox shook his head adamantly.

"Alien or not, all soldiers doubt themselves, whether what they have done can be redeemed. Tell me...all these things you have done, were they to protect the innocent?"

"I-"

Fox cut him off. "No matter how terrible, in the end did they save lives?"

Six took a moment to think. Every target he had taken, every life he had ended, would have been responsible for loss of life. But how could he justify the pleading, the whimpers they had made for him to spare them, crowing about their families, wives and children, how only a monster could do this. When they had figured out that he would not spare them, their attitudes had changed. Inhuman, abomination, heartless machine, they had called him these and many more before the knife sliced into flesh or the gun released its deadly payload and silenced their insults.

Could he really be considered a good man?

One thing was certain.

"Yes."

What he had done did save lives, even at the cost of them. He supposed only his final judgment would let him know whether he had been in the right.

Fox grinned up at him. "Then you are indeed a good man, if you believe so or not, is irrelevant."

Six silently regarded the furred speaker.

Never had he considered in all the few years he had lived, that an alien would give him evocative counsel. Certainly he never suspected that he would speak with one not of his species without the intent to kill. He held a great deal of understandable hatred for aliens. They were responsible for the loss of his homeworld, family, and any chance at a normal life he could have had.

That being said, the spartan's next words were enormously difficult to produce.

"Maybe my first opinion on you and your species was...incorrect, Mccloud. You have given me much to think about. But I have nothing but bad experiences with alien races in the past. Do not think my prejudices will fade in a single night."

In response the vulpine chuckled, nothing but that charismatic individual he met earlier that same day.

"Well, it's a start." Fox replied as he held his paw out.

Six gazed down at the proffered furred limb and all that it signified, friendship, comradery, acceptance...all things he had been promised once before.

Hesitantly, he met the vulpine's paw with his gauntlet, his enormous hand eclipsing Fox's furry appendage.

"Yes....I would suppose it is. I will put my trust in you, Mccloud, as much as I am able. Do not break it. The consequences for doing so would be...unpleasant."

"I promise you I won't." Fox vowed seriously. He knew that attaining this man's trust was a gift of momentous significance. He had gained the confidence of a warrior, and that was something to be treasured, for it was not something given lightly. And all this in a single day as well!

"Then so long as you uphold my trust I will follow you unto the gates of hell themselves Mccloud."

That oath stunned Fox into silence. Six was making a serious commitment.

"This is a gift for you and you alone. For you have shown me something I had not thought possible, that even an alien can have a soul. Now leave, before my gregariousness fades." The spartan actually chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm and friendly, unlike the one from before.

"Right, see you later Six." The vulpine grinned once more and headed towards the door.

"Farwell Mccloud." The spartan replied absentmindedly in dismissal, already lost in his thoughts.

Perhaps, in time, he could get the spartan to call him Fox...and maybe even brother.

Fox let the door close in front of him and walked away, heading towards his own room while whistling a pleasant tune.

He had known Six was a man to be trusted.

*****

After his enlightening conversation with Fox, it took about an hour for Six to remove his MJOLNIR. One of the many skills he had been taught was the capability to manage his own suit. In his operations it was not always feasible to have an experienced tech staff on hand to take care of his various needs, so he had to adapt to the situation. His armor carried a small technical kit that helped him exit his armor as well as containing a handful of tools he could use to affect minor repairs when needed.

The work was soothing in its repetitive familiarity. He had spent many hours tinkering over his suit, patching minor damage and inscribing Norse runes upon the titanium plates as well as reapplying the bone white paints once they were worn down by time and battle.

Many years ago, in a rare act of humanity, he had covertly hacked into ONI's database and looked for information pertaining to his past. He had unfortunately been unable to find anything regarding his name or family. They had even stricken that from their electronic records. But he did find some information on the world he had lived on.

Concord Dawn had been an agricultural colony mostly populated by Scandinavians and therefore heavily influenced by their culture. Wanting some way to stay connected with his already faded past, Six had sought to keep his heritage in some form. He knew nothing of it and spent hours combing the net for anything useful he could find. However, in the end he did not care for most of what he read as it was irrelevant, but he did find its more martial aspects appealing. 

The meanings held behind the glyphs themselves were not as important as what they represented, a physical manifestation of his forgotten history, each a reminder of what had been taken from him and what could have been.

Six did not know what kind of man he could have been if not for the war. And now, after all this time...he didn't want to. Only the agony of loss lay in wait inside those self-centered thoughts.

Six gazed at his battered armor as it lay on the deck in front of him, (being far too heavy to place on the diminutive desk), the cerulean paint flaked in spots and was completely worn away in others, revealing the tarnished silver sheen of the hybridized titanium underneath. Where once a crimson plume resided upon the crest of his helmet only the arc of beaten steel remained. The GALEA helm was a rare pattern of MJOLNIR, coming from the masterful minds of ONI's science division and augmented by the LORICA armor system belonging to a long abandoned ONI project that never got off its feet. Only one of the advanced suits had been constructed, and not wanting it to sit unused, the prototype been given to him, their most efficient weapon.

It was the most cutting-edge powered assault armor ever designed, featuring reinforced multilayered alloy plating, redundant shield generators, enhanced reactivity in the crystalline gel layer, additional refractive coating, and a heavily redesigned body suit with a supplementary stratum of titanium plating for increased protection.

All together and it surpassed both the MARK V and developing MARK VI in combat durability and efficiency. He had been told that it would be many years before such a successful design could be mass produced and distributed to the rest of the spartan program. It was as costly as it was effective. Six often attributed his survival to it.

Since he had donned the armor, not once had it failed him.

The spartan looked down upon his unarmored form, or at least it was less armored. The body suit was still more than adequate to deserve the title. He had always been fascinated by the armor's underlayer. The strange black fiber optic cabling wrapped snugly around him like a second skin and appeared much like human muscular tissue uncovered by the vulnerable trappings of flesh.

Within a few more minutes he stripped out of the underlayer and neatly folded it beside the rest of his equipment.

It had been more than a few weeks since he last had the opportunity to shower, and he wanted to use the facilities of the room he had been gifted. He was hesitant to expose himself on this ship, but he trusted Fox enough to the point where while not necessarily comfortable, he felt that he could at least afford the luxury of a shower.

Leaving everything but his body behind, the soldier opened the door to the lavatory and stepped inside.

It took him longer than he would have liked to admit, but he eventually discovered how to utilize the facilities. Six washed away all the blood, grit, and ash that had somehow managed to find a way onto his skin. As he showered, Six glanced at his torso, revealing an ugly purplish bruise under his right pectoral.

He had been lucky that the glancing impact from the hunter's shield had only cracked a few ribs. If it had landed a solid blow, he doubted even his superior armor could have saved him.

Another mark of his previous engagement lay across his back, a stripe of discolored skin where the intense scorching heat from one of the hunter's assault cannons phased through his armor and seared his flesh.

With his more recent wounds was the ever-present collection of faded scars and burns of a lifetime of war. Even with his MJOLNIR he did not completely escape injury, mended bullet holes, plasma burns, lacerations, if it could hurt you, he had endured it.

He paid the myriad of old wounds little mind, as long as his body kept going and he could keep fighting than it mattered little what happened to it. What he did pay attention to was the hot stream of water emitting from the strangely designed shower head. He could not recall the last time he had been able to bathe, certainly before the Covenant attacked Reach. He did not get the chance to sleep let alone shower.

In fact he had not had the chance for more than a quick rest in between battles for many weeks. He could count the amount of consecutive hours he had slept on the hand of a sangheili warrior. And that was not considering how little he had eaten as well. Noble team had spent the entire invasion fighting the enemy. They had been offered little respite to maintain their bodies.

This was the reason he felt an uncharacteristic grumble emerge from his abdomen. 

Six reluctantly exited the hot shower and dried off, almost reaching for the weapon he did not carry when a loud hum filled the tiny shower stall. The spartan was barraged by warm air and he realized that it was simply air drying him from the vents along the walls, so instead he chuckled.

He was certainly still high strung.

The spartan slipped out of the shower and grabbed a small hand towel placed neatly on a rack by the sliding door, slinging it over his shoulders. As he turned to exit the bathroom, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

A hard pair of crimson irises stared back at him.

It was strange, he had not seen his own face in...he could not recall the last time. He spent almost his entire life locked away under his armor, rarely if ever removing his helm. It had become his face, a silver and cobalt façade, resolute and unflinching, just like his determination to fight.

It had been many days since he last thought to shave or cut his hair. Short and neatly trimmed stubble finely decorated his thin cheeks and his mane of raven black locks had been roughly cut to a manageable level. A duel pair of scars was engraved into his otherwise undamaged visage, a shallow cut carving across the right side of his head, courtesy of a sangheili energy blade from a skilled zealot during the evacuation of New Alexandria, and a cragged mark drew itself across his left eye and down the bridge of his nose, the result of an insurrectionists fragmentation grenade received in a boarding action above Mamore.

But what surprised him most on finally seeing his face after so long, was the haggard look in his ruby red eyes.

Those windows to his soul had not always been the color of spilt blood. Once, they had been innocent and bright blue, just another part of him taken away by the program. The drug cocktail they used to augment his body had some minor side effects, thankfully all benign. He would have not been able to live with himself had he been crippled as many others had been. The procedure to turn a child into a superhuman was both incredibly dangerous and highly unethical. But he did not blame ONI or the UNSC for what they did to him and his fellows. Humanity had been losing the war, what mattered the lives of a few children if it meant the survival of their species?

Six traced the old scar over his eye, recalling the engagement where he had earned it.

That had been before he was valued enough of an asset to be given real MJOLNIR. Most S-III's were given SPI armor, still better than standard marine BDUs and ODST plating, but it was vastly inferior to its progenitor. Designed more for stealth, it lacked many of the superior aspects of MJOLNIR, such as its defensive capabilities.

The frag had landed atop a crate beside his head, the only thing saving him from death being the helmet he had been wearing and the rifle in his grip. The MA37 had absorbed most of the kinetic damage but not the shrapnel, which had sheared through the unshielded SPI helmet and sliced deeply into his flesh.

The blast had momentarily stunned him and he had been pulled back into cover by the squad of marines under his command.

The rest of the battle had gone smoothly and he captured the hijacked freighter with minimal casualties.

It had been a good op.

Six left the bathroom and his memory, stepping back into his cabin...the spartan was still unsure how to feel about that. He had never owned anything before, everything, even his armor belonged to ONI. He guessed that now his armor belonged to him as well. ONI could feel free to come find him and take it away if they so desired.

With a shrug, he dressed back into his undersuit and tinkered on his MJOLNIR for another solid hour before donning it as well. It was incredibly inconvenient to do so with the minimal space the room provided. He would see about finding a way past that later.

Slipping his helm back onto his head, Six once more felt at ease.

He checked the chronometer on the top left of his HUD, (reminding himself to find a way to sync it with this world's time when he could), and saw that he had been in his room for little more than three and a half hours, which meant he was late to speak with that old hare. He cared little for that, more concerned with this Peppy wanted. If he had more questions about him, then Six planed on getting some of his own answered as well.

Six glanced at the sidearm sitting by itself atop the bed's sheets, debating whether he would take it or not.

After the brief inner dispute, he decided that he could afford to leave it behind. If he was going to live in this world, he would have to adapt, even if that meant he could not carry a weapon everywhere.

Although leaving his armor behind was absolutely unacceptable. He did not trust these aliens that much.

Not wanting to leave the weapon sitting out, he placed it in one of the desk's drawers.

'At least it has a use.'

Six exited his quarters and preformed a habitual scan of the hallway, finding it suitably deserted.

The spartan patted one of the magazine containers on his breastplate and traveled to the elevator.

It was time to see what that hare wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a long while since I posted anything on here or maintained any sort of presence. Though I hope to change that now. I'll be posting a few chapters here and there with increasing frequency. I hope you all will come to enjoy them.


	6. Times Gone By

Chapter 5: Times Gone By

Krystal lounged languidly upon one of the sofas decorating the common room, book in paw. Her bright green eyes scanned the inked text, but her mind wandered elsewhere. She was not often a nosy vixen and respected the privacy of the team, refraining from using her powers while around them. But she could not help but listen in on Fox's and Six's conversation in the spartan's private quarters.

She had gleaned a surprising amount of insight into their new member from their brief dialogue.

For one he had encountered aliens in the past, and held a deep loathing for them and by the process of dissemination, her and the others. But, he was likewise incredibly tolerant. She had felt his rage, even from all the way down in the common room. With such hate she would have expected him to go on a killing spree, and yet...he had not. Instead he joined them. Such restraint for one soul to have was incredible. What kind of training had he been put through to give him such masterful control over his emotions?

Krystal flicked to the next page, reading from the romance novel as she pondered.

Even in regards to his anger, his pledge to Fox was what really surprised her.

Cerinia had been a world of oaths and honor, and such a promise as Six had given to Fox was a potent one. If he truly meant to keep his word, than they had nothing to fear from him.

This was a relief as she had been concerned about his previous actions.

While unable to read his mind, she had anticipated his reaction upon discovering what she was. By a glance anyone could see that he was a man that preferred his privacy. Factor that and the way he expressed himself, Krystal had been pleasantly surprised that all he had done was direct his weapon at her.

Krystal decided that she liked him much more than Falco.

The avian was a prideful being by nature, and his tendency to boast was something that constantly tugged on the vixen's nerves.

But, Six was something of an altogether different sort. He had power, strength, skill, there was no disputing this, and yet he cared little for showing off. The spartan had something important that Falco lacked...humility.

Six could teach that bird a thing or two.

"So...what'd they talk about Krys? I know you eavesdropped."

Krystal's gaze traveled up the pages of her book, Fortuna Desires, and to the spotted feline sitting on the carpet and leaning against the vixen's couch. The cat had been idly tapping away at a game on her wrist comm and chose that moment to speak.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Krystal mumbled a roguishly innocent gleam in her eyes.

Miyu scoffed impishly. "Oh don't play the innocent routine. I know you better than that. You've probably been following them the moment they left the room."

"Perhaps..." Krystal replied noncommittally, enjoying the fact that she had the cat in the palm of her paw for once and not the other way around. 

"Why you gotta be like that huh? I thought we were friends." Miyu mewled lightheartedly; the cat's ears drooped comically as she gazed up at the vixen with the clichéd but no less effective sad eye routine.

Krystal finally relented.

"You know we are Miyu. I was just teasing."

Instantly the act stopped, her ears perking up and eyes filled to the brim with curiosity. "Yeah I know, so what's the scoop? What went down eh?"

Krystal did not go in detail of the spartan's private emotions, (even she had her limits), but she gave the gist of what they talked about.

"Woah...that's intense. I didn't think the big guy would go all-out so soon, or at all for that matter." Miyu rubbed her furred jaw ponderously. "I wonder why he did that. Seems like a big deal."

"That is a something I would wish to uncover the reason behind as well." Krystal agreed, putting her book down on the cushion beside her, the passionate scene between the returning soldier and his fiancé put on hold. She would go back to it at a later time.

"Well, until something else happens, what do you say we go check on Slippy? I wanna hear more about this Amanda he talked about."

That sounded like fun.

"Sure, why not?"

The vixen slid off the couch and followed after her friend as they went in search of the unfortunate toad, who would soon wish he had never opened his mouth.

*****

The elevator's doors slid open with a silent surge of air and the spartan passed the threshold, trailing the way Fox had taken back to the common room. He had to admit he was curious what this Peppy wished to speak to him about. He had little interaction with the hare since coming onboard, less than any of the others.

There was only one way to find out what he wanted.

Six passed through the hallway, heading towards the common room at the far end. As he reached the halfway point, one of the doors to the side peeled open and a toad flew out in a hurry, only to rebound off of the spartan's inflexible frame, his somewhat stubby body meeting the deck in a graceless heap and scattering a wide array of tools and devices around him.

Acting quickly, the toad muttered quietly to himself and clambered back to his feet as he retrieved his scattered equipment, still not having noticed the confused giant warrior standing next to him.

Picking up what looked like a spanner; the amphibian looked up and finally noticed who exactly it was he crashed into.

Six watched in silent amusement as the amphibian's usually dark green skin paled quickly.

"S-S-Six, s-sorry to bump into you like that, I'm in quite a hurry." The toad blabbered defensively, hoping he had not displeased the fearsome soldier.

"I would not make this a repetitive occurrence, Toad." The spartan replied neutrally, already set on resuming his short journey to the common room. Six left Slippy to his own devices, having neither the time nor patience to deal with him.

Picking up the last of his strewn items, Slippy watched as the spartan walked away dismissively. He had been fleeing from Krystal and Miyu, the two girls hounding him for more info on Amanda. He knew he should have kept his lips sealed, but he had been so happy that he had confided in them, a critical error he now realized.

Slippy could hear soft footsteps and feminine voices behind him, and looked back to the spartan, nervously weighing his options. He could keep running, eventually getting caught and having to endure the two women's myriad of awkward questions, or he could follow the huge brooding warrior and risk igniting his anger.

It was not that hard of a decision to make.

"Six! Wait up!"

The spartan's helmet turned and his silver visor stared back at the toad who stumbled after him.

"H-hey, I was wondering if I could just...tag along?" Slippy wondered uncertainly, cringing as he waited for the solider to render judgment.

"I care little if you follow." He replied disinterestedly.

"G-Great!" Slippy exclaimed excitedly, quickly following after the spartan's quick stride.

*****

Six strode down the short steps to the common room and looked for Peppy, finding the wizened old hare sitting at one of the tables, nursing a steaming beverage and reading from a leather-bound book. The spartan was curious as to why he used such a dated way to glean information when there were far more effective methods available.

The hare sipped from his drink and noticed the spartan that had just entered, as well as the diminutive toad at his side.

Peppy grinned. "Ah, Six, I am pleased that you have finally arrived. And Slippy, what brings you here?"

Six traversed the common room to take a seat at the table and Slippy followed suit.

"I'm trying to lay low. Miyu and Krystal are on the hunt again." The toad replied with an embarrassed chuckle, his dexterous webbed hands fiddling with his tool belt.

"I recall warning you of such a possibility if you did not keep it secret." Peppy replied sagely.

Six did not want to hear about the toad's or any other's personal life.

"What is it you want, Hare?" He inquired impatiently.

If bothered by the spartan's directness, he did not show it, instead smiling patiently.

"Oh it is nothing serious." Peppy waived a greyed paw dismissively and placed the leather tome upon the table with great care. "I just wished to exchange information if it is not too much trouble. I am a connoisseur of knowledge you see. And I must say, your story has intrigued me quite a bit indeed and I would like to hear more, if you were willing of course. In return I would be glad to give you a little history on this system you find yourself in."

Six pondered on what the Hare was implying, a trade. He wanted to know more about his world, and in return he would give him the information he sought about this one. It seemed like an even exchange, but the spartan remained suspicious and reluctant.

There was little worth telling of the human covenant war, there being far too few victories to speak off, and he was no authoritative source of human history. He had only been taught of the strategies and histories of warfare and had a weaker grasp on the other aspects of the past than a fifteen year old child.

However, the opportunity to learn more about this Lylat System was not one he wished to waste.

"That is...acceptable, granted you begin first." Six decided he could always back out once the hare was done, and there was little he could do to stop that.

"Certainly, I would be glad to." Peppy agreed pleasantly, lacing his short furred fingers together and clearing his throat, stepping into the inherent role of a professor. "So...what do you wish to hear of? The more important aspects are of course the formation of the Cornerian Republic and the First Lylat War with Venom."

Six cared little for politics, information pertaining to the war would be more valuable.

"Tell me of this war."

Peppy's lips curved into an unsurprised smile. "I had a feeling that would be your choice, very well. The events of the war were set into motion once a scientist by the name of Andross was exiled to the toxic world known as Venom. An experiment he was conducting destroyed a large swath of Corneria and was almost responsible for the extinction of the entire system. Seeing that what his actions had wrought and what untold devastation it could have caused, General Pepper banished him, expecting the mad scientist to perish on the penal world."

Six scoffed. If this had occurred in the UNSC, Andross would have been summarily executed. These cornerians were far too soft, and look what their weakness had wrought.

"Do not mock our ways, spartan." Peppy advised tolerantly. "Our laws and actions might seem lenient, but they are the code on which out society was founded. It is what separates us from the venomians."

"If that is what you believe..." Six acceded neutrally.

"It is, and since you are here now I would suggest you start to do the same."

"We are distancing from the point of this conversation." The spartan rumbled.

Peppy nodded. "I will admit to that. Moving on, much later, the General received strange reports from the penal colony and hired the original Starfox team to investigate, myself, Fox's father James, and a pig by the name of Pigma Dengar. Shortly upon arriving we were betrayed by Dengar and Fox's father was killed in an ambush. I barely managed to escape with my life."

This time, Six had no comment to make.

Peppy continued.

"Years after war broke out. Andross had survived the death world and even managed to build an Empire with it. The ape was a tactical genius and his armies were as loyal as they were ruthless. Corneria had grown complacent over the years and its forces were few and mostly fulfilled peacekeeping roles, making them completely inadequate in repelling Venom's advance. Seeing that defeat was inevitable, General Pepper sought out James' son, Fox, and asked him to take his father's mantle. He accepted without hesitation. With that, the then eighteen year old Fox along with Slippy here, Falco, and I, turned the tide."

At this, Six could not remain silent.

"It was just the four of you? I find that hard to believe."

"I speak no lies, we fought back the venomian advance and allowed the flagging cornerian army to recover and take back the worlds we lost."

Six desired to say more, but he held his tongue. The spartan program had been created to achieve much the same effect against the insurrection and then the covenant, although their enemy had been far more powerful and relentless. If what this hare said was true, then there was more to this team than he first suspected.

With the spartan saying nothing, Peppy accepted his silent recognition. "The cornerian army and the Starfox team beat the venomians back to their homeworld and there Fox fought Andross, eventually defeating him and thus ending the war. However, now it seems that the ape's dark legacy lives on in his nephew, Oikonny. What ill omens this brings I am unsure."

The hare sounded tired as he finished his explanation. Six understood what toll this must have taken on the old hare, not that he held any sympathy. His life had not been easy either. Neither Peppy nor the others could ever hope to fathom what he had endured...the pain...the loss, having everything cruelly ripped away from you, your life callously molded into what the government desired and forced to adapt to a existence of endless war and bloodshed. 

No. They could never hope to understand.

"Now then, Six, tell me more about humanity. Why have we never encountered your race before?" Peppy wondered, eyeing the strangely proportioned warrior in front of him. He had never seen a soldier like him. The spartan was as immense as he was merciless, and his prowess in battle knew no equal. Peppy had gained many connections in the CDF over the years. And even in this short time, they had already filed quite a few interesting reports, sending them to him upon request. He had time to skim through them before Six's arrival to his little impromptu discussion.

The venomian bodies recovered had been...hard to identify, and the fleet repots hailed him as a hero, rescuing the CNDF Honorbound from a disastrous fate. The fleet did not know who he was, but they had yet to questions his arrival, nor did they feel the need to after what he did. As far as the admiral had been concerned, he was a welcomed addition. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. So he had already struck a chord with the CDF it would seem. Peppy was eager to get Pepper's opinion on this alien warrior. He was curious as to what his old friend would think on all this.

Peppy noticed the silence and realized that the man in question had not responded.

"Six?" Slippy inquired, tapping the spartan's shoulderplate.

Six was at an impasse. He did not have much patience and he was no storyteller by any definition of the word. The spartan did not even know where to begin or if he even knew the answer to the hare's question. He was still unsure as to how he had exactly arrived. He had an inkling of course. But after all the peculiarity he had experienced, he himself could not rightly believe it.

The spartan was about ready to up and leave when he heard the telltale hiss of an opening door. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Mccloud entering with the two females from before.

The presence of his commanding officer helped sway his decision. It was unequivocally aggravating in every sense of the word and the spartan despised the feeling entirely, but he felt he owed the vulpine, an infinitesimal sliver of debt, but a debt nonetheless. Fox had given him much to think on, both of his past and his future.

And so rather than departing the room, he reluctantly stayed in his seat and began his tale. The words as painful as hot lead and tasting of charred ash.

"I believe the reason you have not encountered humanity up until this day is simply because we have not existed in this universe until this moment."

At that the hare seemed completely baffled.

"Whatever do you mean?"

By this time Fox and the two women had approached and joined them at the table, not interrupting the conversation between the spartan and Peppy.

Six's tone shifted slightly, taking on a more ponderous and uncertain aspect. "This world, Corneria as you call, it is both familiar and yet different...I knew it as Reach."

"Reach?" Slippy pipped in.

"Correct, it was the world, that until recently, I served on."

"Wait, that doesn't make any sense. How can that be possible?" Miyu wondered.

It would seem that they had overtaken the Hare's inquisition.

"There is a story to this tale, that much is true. I will not mince words and so I will cut this explanation short. I would wish to be free of interruption." Six warned. He had only the patience to clarify this once.

"Sure, go ahead." Fox nodded his ascent and made sure the others were in agreement.

Now confident in the fact there would be no interruptions, he began.

"Reach, my version of this world as I suspect, was under attack by a collective of alien races dubbed the covenant. They fielded immensely superior technology and seemingly inexhaustible reserves of military might. Discovered in the year 2525, they have waged a relentless and brutal war against the UNSC for twenty seven years, eight of which I have participated in. The covenant desired the genocide of the human race, systematically eradicating any human colony they chanced upon. There were few, if any, survivors of these attacks."

Six had their complete and undivided attention now.

"Less than a standard month ago, they found and laid siege to Reach, our fortress world. For weeks we tried in vain to repel the indomitable invasion, suffering extreme casualties and untold loss of civilian life. But there could have been no other end...and thus Reach fell. My squad, Noble Team, was just one of the many who did not survive."

Six reached into the magazine container on his breastplate and delicately extracted the four pairs of dog-tags he had retrieved from his fallen comrades, dropping them to the table with a hollow clang. The spartan had been holding all of this back, and now that he had started, he found that he could not stop. Whether these aliens believed him or not, their story needed to be told. Noble Team could not fade into historical ambiguity. To him, that would be a grave insult to their memory that he could not stand.

"Despite all our fabled prowess as spartans, we could not stop the enemy, and so they fell...one by one. In the end I was the last one left alive. And I watched Reach burn, the culmination of humanity's might among the starts reduced to molten glass and ashen memory. Eventually, I fought my way to a hidden hanger and escaped into orbit. From there I was able to construct a bomb and detonated it inside one of the covenant cruisers. But instead of death, I found myself here, waking up to the sight of your vessel. I can only assume that the tenuous nature of the device is responsible for this occurrence."

"So...when you say that you're not from around here..." Miyu clarified slowly. "You mean that you're, really, really, really not from around here." She was still overwhelmed by the spartan's tragic tale, and she felt nothing but sympathy for him. But at the moment she was also in awe of how truly alien he was.

"Affirmative, if my hypothesis is correct, I am not from this reality or possibly even time."

"Whoa...well. I mean...that's just...wow." The feline was speechless. She and the others had seen and done some crazy things in the past. Most were seemingly implausible and more in the realm of fantasy. But this was something else entirely.

"What were their names?"

Six turned to the cerulean vixen, whose bright green eyes were focused on the dog-tags lying upon the table.

"Excuse me?"

"Your team, what were their names?" Krystal repeated, glancing up into his visor with a strange look he could not properly interpret. He had still not managed to decipher some of their alien expressions.

"Carter, Kat, Emile, Jun and...Jorge." Six replied slowly, unsure as to what direction the female fox's question was leading.

"Were you...close, to them?"

"I...do not understand?" What was she trying to ask? How was this relevant to their current discussion?

"I...never mind." She relented with a sigh, shaking her muzzle softly. If she had something to say, she seemed to have changed her mind.

That suited him just fine.

"So...there is no way for you to go back home?" Fox inquired, aware that there might not even be a home for him to go back to.

"I lack the necessary equipment to attempt a replication on the means of my arrival, nor do I think that a replication of such an event would be successful. So no....I have no means of returning to my reality."

Reality...that word sounded so strange to his ears, a thing more of science fiction than fact. But here was all the condemning proof arrayed before him, this ship, its inhabitants, and this alternate version of Reach.

It was time to accept the truth.

He was lost. There was no going back, no continuing the war he had been created to wage.

Six pocketed the tags and rose from his seat, walking away and leaving the bewildered team to their thoughts.

Isolation....

That was what he needed.

*****

The common room was uncharacteristically silent, Fox and the others processing the spartan's startling words and his abrupt departure. Every time they spoke with him, another piece of shocking information was brought to light.

Six was not only an alien, but one from a different reality, completely stranded with no hope of going home. And even if he could, his team was dead, and the world he fought for gone, wiped out by some alien race that sounded too horrible to comprehend.

"Jeez...poor guy, I didn't think anyone could have it that bad." Miyu idly scratched at the table with a sharp claw, amber eyes filled with solemnity and locked onto the closed doors.

Fox could see now why he would carry such hatred for aliens. He wouldn't know what to do if his entire team had been killed by the venomians. He imagined it would have changed him into a bitter and hateful soul.

"I believe I have heard enough for one day, I'll be in my room if you need me Fox." Peppy declared as he picked up his book and wedged it under an arm, grabbing his coffee. There was some more he wished to know about humans in general. But he could wait till later. He knew a broken soldier when he saw one. The hare had seen countless like him over the years, and Six was no exception. He needed time and space before he could be approached again.

"Alright Pep, see you later." Fox replied.

"I have some stuff I want to work on." Slippy added, deciding to leave as well. He had a feeling that Krystal and Miyu would not be bothering him any more today, and he was feeling oddly depressed at the moment. He decided that he would do something for Six to cheer him up. The beginnings of a plan forming in his mind, the amphibian tightened his belt and departed after Peppy.

With just Miyu, Krystal, and Fox left, the feline decided it was time to leave as well.

"I need to check on the Great Fox's armaments, haven't had the chance to get around to it after the battle, but now's a good time as any I suppose. Later." Miyu waived a paw and strode lazily out of the room.

Alone, Fox turned to Krystal.

"Now that you've heard his story, do you still think he's trouble?"

She was slow to reply.

"I do not know what to think anymore. My senses tell me that his is a dangerous individual, and not to be trusted. But my heart...I can feel his pain, Fox." The vixen whispered softly and shuddered, her tail lying placid at her side. "There's so much of it that I can almost taste his anguish. And yet...it is as if he cannot sense it himself, deceived by his own emotions. I have never encountered anything like this. I do not think he even knows how much pain he is in. How can someone be blind to such agony?"

Krystal shook her head slowly and stood up. "I need time to meditate. These feelings, they are almost unbearable, I must cleanse my thoughts. I will see you later, Fox."

"Will you be alright?" Fox was worried for her. She was incredibly sensitive to powerful emotions, he had seen it afflict her a few times before, and the side effects had never been pleasant.

She smiled warmly. "I will be fine after a little rest."

"Okay if you say so, remember, you can always talk to me if you need to." Fox offered.

"I know, thank you, Fox." She did not say it, but there was only one person on this ship who could help her in this instance, only one source she could attain her answers.

With a curt nod, she left, leaving Fox as the only one in the room.

The vulpine leaned back in his seat and thoughtfully rapped his black claws upon the table.

"Hmm...interesting."

*****

"Gah, come on." Falco grumbled, smacking a feathered hand against the barrel of his assault blaster. Ahead of him, a firing range displayed a dissatisfactory score of 65%.

For the last few days it had been on the fritz and so far he had been unsuccessful in discovering the reason for its faulty mechanisms. Assault blasters were fickle weapons, most often mounted on IFVs or landmaster variants. The purchase had not come cheap and the multipaged certification permits had been exasperating to fill out.

So when it refused to work, it made him quite reasonably infuriated.

"Stupid piece of shit!" He growled, tossing it to the table to his left, his patience running out.

The avian's grumbling was not unnoticed.

Six had searched the ship for the armory, intending to familiarize himself with the alien arsenal.

A day had passed since he arrived in this strange universe, the last hours of it spent in seclusion as he attempted to come to terms with his new lot in life.

Suffice to say it had been ineffective. All he had earned for his thoughts was another night of restlessness and sleep deprivation.

So, instead he decided to leave his room and find something productive to do. Learning of this universe's weapons seemed appropriate.

The spartan eyed the avian from the doorway with curiosity.

Falco was an oddity in his eyes. He exhibited traits that seemed to go against the flow he had witnessed from the team. And yet he had not forcibly or willing departed. His actions were reckless and insubordinate. If this had been a team of spartans, Falco would not have lasted long.

Although his gun was of interest to Six. Its size and proportions were adequate for a human and even a spartan of his size.

Six left the avian to his muttering and instead chose to examine the racks of weapons adorning the walls. There were several different designs, many similar to UNSC munitions. This mercenary team may have been understaffed, but they were indeed well-equipped, with numerous firearms to choose from. The spartan decided to start his investigation small and scanned the rack of sidearms.

In the end after his brief overlook, he discovered that the majority of them would not fit in his gauntlets, and the ones that could were difficult to hold. Disregarding them as useless, he studied the rifles. These were easier to manipulate, yet still not as satisfactory as he would have wished.

Six was starting to believe that none of their weapons would be suitable replacements.

However, something in the far back caught his eye, sitting upon its own personal pedestal.

Six passed the wall of guns and carefully lifted the object with a two-handed grip, surprised to find that it fit his grip perfectly.

Similar in appearance to Jorge's machine gun, it made him feel...sentimental.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you. I tried to use it once and Krystal went batshit on me."

Six glanced up from the his examination of the weapon and saw Falco standing across from him, striking that cross armed stance that he was beginning to suspect of being the avian's go to posture.

Choosing not to respond, he gently returned it to its plinth.

"That is her weapon?" It seemed a little much for a woman of her size.

"Yeah I know right?" Falco scoffed, seeming to get what the spartan was alluding to. "Still, it's hers and if there is anything I learned about that girl, it's stay away from her stuff...even if she never uses it." He added with an almost unnoticed mutter.

Six turned back to the walled arsenal thoughtfully. There would be a quick and efficient way to familiarize himself with them all, even if the method would be...distasteful.

"I take it you are...acquainted, with these weapons?" The spartan turned to Falco.

"Yeah, I know my way around them." Falco replied curiously.

Six refrained from groaning.

"Then you would be able to...help me...study them?" Each word felt like shattered glass slicing its way up his throat.

"I suppose I would be able to, if you got the time."

"I would be...thankful."

And with that, Six was forced to sit through an aggravating lecture in lylatian firearms and weapons technology.

*****

"So these are called...blasters?" Six inquired as he held up a rifle that he learned was called the CM-384. The spartan felt as if he was back in the training program, learning everything for the first time.

He hated it.

"Yep, that's the standard nomination for all weapon tech. The power is minimal as you may have noticed, but they don't suffer from gravitational effects like ballistic firearms do and they can hold more in a single charge pack and last for months of disuse without the need to be recharged." 

So there were benefits to using this technology, they were just minimal. Might he be able to find a means of configuring the lylatian charging method with his plasma repeater? It would be something to look into later.

"What is that weapon called?" Six gestured to the one that had garnered his previous attention.

"That right there is the PX-1000 MRLAWS, which stands for Multi-barreled Rotary Laser Assault Weapon System, quite a mouthful ain't it? Most CDF marines just like to call it MR. Law for short. Still, it can chew through infantry and even armored vehicles within seconds, the only drawback is its weight and the fact it overheats like a bitch. Slippy's been trying to find a way to upgrade or at least modify the integrated heat sinks, but he hasn't had much luck so far."

Six would have to speak with Fox about acquiring an additional one of these. Then he could take a page from Jorge's playbook.

"Hey...Six..."

The spartan looked up from the rifle he was familiarizing himself with, seeing that Falco's eyes were riveted securely upon his assault cannon, dutifully wiping the barrel down with a cloth.

"Lombardi...?"

Falco was outwardly absorbed in his task, but it was easy to see that it was not all he was occupied with. "I...uh...heard about how you got here...why...you got here."

The avian seemed hesitant and uncertain with his words, having a difficult time trying to get to his point. It was unlike the arrogant pheasant he had observed previously and that peaked the spartan's curiosity.

"Anyways....I well uh, just wanted to say that I might have been a little...difficult at first. And for that I...apologize."

Six was taken back, never had anyone apologized to him before. He was unaware as to what the proper social ritual to respond would be.

"So you do have a heart in there!"

Thankfully he was saved by a voice coming from the doorway.

Six and Falco turned to see Fay leaning against the open threshold, the canine grinning cheekily.

"What's that supposed to mean? Of course I have one, and it's definitely bigger than yours!" Falco blustered defensively, focusing on his weapon and trying to ignore her smirking gaze.

"As much as I would like to take this rare opportunity to tease you, Fox needs us all on the bridge. Pepper's got another mission for us."

At the word mission, Six was already heading for the door. Facing the enemy would be far more preferable to this...exchange of words.

Falco was just as quick to leave, following after the spartan and trying to ignore Fay.

"Serves me right..." He muttered under his breath. "I try and do the nice thing and she makes fun of me."

"What was that, Falco?"

"Nothing." He grunted fumingly.

*****

Although starting off leading the way, Six was still unfamiliar with the layout of the Great Fox and so he had to let Fay take the lead, following the canine to the CIC.

Upon arrival, he discovered that the rest of the team was already in the dark room, along with the large holographic representation of a bloodhound in uniform hovering above a holotable. Falco and Fay joined Fox and the others while Six stood in the back. That must be the General, Six assumed.

It was odd, Generals in the UNSC were not the same as here it would appear. This General Pepper was the defacto commander of their entire armed forces, much like Admiral Hood had become later in the war, mostly because many of the other UNSC figureheads had been slain by the covenant.

"We're all here, General." Falco announced as he plopped down on one of the seats around the table.

The blue pixilated canine was quick to get to the point and seemed somewhat anxious to Six's enhanced hearing. "Good, now that you all are here let's get down to business. I do not have much time to talk. Yesterday's attack goes further than we thought. New information from the Intelligence Bureau indicates that Fortuna, Katina, Zoness, and Macbeth are under siege by venomian forces."

"Are they holding out?" Fox asked worriedly. Last he heard from Bill, he was posted on Katina.

The General's muzzle twisted uncertainly. "We have been able to gleam little data on these battle zones, but from what we have learned, Macbeth and Katina are under control, with CDF units forcing back Oikonny's forces. The same does not hold for the other worlds."

"Is it bad?" Fay inquired.

"It is certainly not going well." The hound replied forebodingly. "The CDF garrison on Zoness has gone dark, last reports stating that Oikonny's forces have released bioweapons, more of Andross' sinister legacy brought back to life."

"The simian dictator did have a strange obsession with monsters." Fox scowled, "Perhaps because he was one himself?"

Bioweapons? Six had never encountered bioweapons before. He hoped they would prove more of a challenge than these venomians.

"Fortuna is fairing little better." The General continued. "The venomians have deployed a considerable presence of armored vehicles and have stationed a multitude of AA installations across the surface, rendering reinforcements all but impossible. Thankfully, they are holding. It is Zoness I am far more concerned with. We've lost contract with the garrison and the last garbled report we received implied there were heavy casualties. Fortuna can wait, I need your team to head to Zoness immediately, establish contact with the garrison's survivors and eliminate the threat. Our navy is scattered and we cannot afford to leave Corneria undefended in case Oikonny returns, so you will be functioning without support from the fleet this time. It's up to Starfox to get the job done. The usual rate of credits will be transferred upon completion."

"Is there any useful intel at all from the CIB?" Miyu questioned.

The holographic canine shook his muzzle negatively. "Not much I'm afraid. The agent on Zoness vanished days before the attack. All we know is that local units are holed up somewhere inside the base. The location of the compound will be sent to ROB. This is a surface op, so plan accordingly. But also be warned, for whatever reason, Oikonny's orbital forces have left the local system. This could mean they have decided to retreat or they are lying in wait to ambush you."

"Don't worry, General, we can take anything that bastard throws at us." Fox assured with a confident smirk.

"I know, but be careful nonetheless. We don't know what's going on down there or what the bioweapons might be."

"Aw, we'll be fine, we have Six with us." Miyu declared assuredly, gesturing to the spartan standing in the back. "He's a walking tank!"

The aged canine's eyes shifted to the towering armored warrior and nodded slowly. The spartan could tell that he was being judged and weighed by those experienced hazel eyes, but what verdict he came to was unknown to him. Six was no fool. He knew that Fox would divulge what he learned to his leader. He just wondered how much the vulpine confessed.

"Ah, Yes...Six. I have heard a fair deal of you recently. I must thank you for saving the Honorbound. Her captain is a good friend of mine. She asked me to relay her gratitude as well."

Pepper was being cordial, but Six could detect a great deal of mistrust in his words.

"I was merely pursuing the enemy."

"Of course you were." The General replied with the beginnings of a smile. "I know that you will continue to do so in the future."

Six did not respond.

"Keep in contact and inform me when you arrive." Pepper turned his attention away from the spartan and back to Fox, almost flippantly.

"Will do, Sir." The vulpine guaranteed.

"Excellent, Pepper out." The holo image of the canine winked out and the lights in the room brightened back to their normal cheerfully annoying glow.

Fox rose from his chair and clapped his paws together. "Alright, looks like we're back in business." He turned to the amphibian sitting beside him. "Slippy, go to ROB up on the bridge and confirm that we've received the information on the compound and chart a course for Zoness."

"On it Fox!" The toad announced loudly and departed the room with admirable purpose.

"Falco, Miyu, go to the armory and check on our equipment. We're going planetside and I want to ensure that our gear will function perfectly by the time we arrive."

"You always assign me that crappy job." Falco groaned but he left all the same, with the lynx in tow.

"Peppy, you know what to do." Fox knew he didn't have to order the hare around.

"Already on it," Shortly, the hare was gone.

Fox was hesitant to address the next member of his team.

"Six..."

The spartan glanced up from his brooding, having been deep in thought. He was curious as to what his commander's orders would be.

"Mccloud...?"

Fox was a while in replying, still uncertain as to how to interact with the spartan. It was strange that one so skilled and imperious was under his direct command. It almost felt as if Six should have been the one to be handing out orders. Fox had just reached his twenty first year, with three years of collective combat experience. Six had more than eight years of war under his belt. Certainly he should be in charge? It was the first time that he began to have serious doubts about himself as a leader. How exactly did you order an alien supersoldier around? Could you even do that?

The spartan was still waiting for Fox to speak and Krystal eyed her friend with concern. She had never seen Fox freeze up like that.

Briskly shaking his head, Fox regained his confidence with some difficulty.

"Six...I need you to gear up. Zoness is a jungle world, so plan accordingly."

Surprisingly, the spartan acceded to his command with little hesitation, nodding as he turned to leave the room. "As you say, Mccloud."

With the spartan gone, Fox exhaled heavily.

"What was that about?" Krystal stepped up to him.

"It just doesn't feel right, ordering him around." Fox replied with another sigh. "I mean, look at him. He's a freaking walking death machine! And he's got more experience under his belt than Falco and I combined. What could I say to make him listen?"

"What you did seemed to work just fine." Krystal smirked.

"I'm being serious Krys!" Fox rebuked bitterly.

The vixen's smile faded. She could see what was bothering Fox. He felt inadequate, unable to place himself on the same level as the spartan. While true, he was not as capable as Six was, she was not that blind. But it did not mean that Fox was inferior at all.

She folded her furred arms disapprovingly. "I seem to recall that a certain vulpine and his friends' singlehandedly repelled an invasion. And did not this same vulpine save a planet and a certain blue vixen on it?"

Fox's muzzle shifted in thought, and a faint smile began to manifest on his fuzzy features.

"That he did."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. After all, didn't Six pledge his loyalty to you? I think that whether he admits it or not, he respects you Fox. And if someone like him can follow and place his trust in you, then you have nothing to fear."

Fox nodded slowly.

"Yeah I suppose you-wait, did you do that mind thing again?" He demanded with a slightly irritated, but no less amused, smirk.

"I may have been in the vicinity to over hear your conversation...mentally." She admitted with a cautious grin. Sometimes Fox did not take her antics well. This time it seemed that he was not angry.

"You should really stop doing that." He admonished her, although he shifted his eyes conspiratorially and leaned closer. "So...does he really have confidence in in me?"

"More than even he knows..." Krystal replied, watching as relief washed across her friend's muzzle.

"Well, that's good to know." Fox took a step back. "Right, enough of that. You know what to do, Krys." They had at least a day before the Great Fox would arrive at its destination, giving her and the others plenty of time to prepare.

"Of course I do." She chuckled and strolled out of the room.

Fox watched her go and sat back into his chair after a few moments, throwing his legs up on the holotable and pulling a flask from his vest, taking a sip of the fiery liquid stored within the small metal case. The warm feeling in his gut made it easier for him to calm his thoughts.


	7. Jungle Blues

Chapter 6: Jungle Blues

Six rummaged through his gear bag and pulled out the DMR he had retrieved from the sabre's survival kit. It had come with a suppressor and short range ACOG scope, perfect for the environment he had in mind. Placing the weapon and attachments to the table at his left, Six dug back into the bag.

He had investigated the mechanics workshop aboard the ship and was pleasantly surprised by it. It carried equipment and tools that were familiar and almost exact in design as ones he had seen before, allowing him to easily adapt to their use. If necessary, he could even effect more intensive repairs and upgrades on his MJOLNIR, given he had the right tools and materials.

The spartan removed the M45 from his bag and examined the chamber. The scattergun would prove to be instrumental in any close quarters engagements they might stumble upon in what he assumed would be a congested forest and would pair well with the marksman's rifle.

He was not certain how efficiently he would function fighting alongside such an inadequately equipped team. At best, he would be forced to divert vital combat time to ensure their survival, at worse, they would endanger his safety. Yet Without them he would expend more resources and ordinance than he could afford to waste.

Taking anything else would overburden him, so he extracted a suitable rationing of ammo for both firearms and sealed the bag's zipper, storing it under the table for later use. He...trusted that they would not tamper with his things. Doing so would lead to a premature death.

Six slid the weapons onto his back and checked the strength of the magnetic coils responsible for keeping them pinned to his spine. Satisfied that they would not fall or get torn off, the spartan turned his attention to the other room's occupant.

The toad had been mostly silent since he arrived, keeping to his area and trying to be undisruptive.

While clumsy and annoyingly upbeat, Six respected the toad's mechanical expertise and determination. He was a terrible warrior, but made for an excellent engineer.

The spartan watched as sparks flew from the table Slippy worked over, curious as to what the toad was doing with the mission so close to its advent. They were hours away from this Zoness, and yet here he was, working on something, as he had been every time Six had seen him for the past day.

Deciding to investigate, he approached the amphibian's workbench.

Upon closer inspection it appeared that he was welding something together. It looked to be in the early stages of development. It was an odd construct, with a long and narrow plane of steel about four and a half feet in length. He watched as the toad soldered a horizontal crossbar nearer to the lower half.

Before he could get a better look, Slippy leaned away from his project and flipped up the welding helm he had strapped to his bald head. He grabbed a dirty rag from his belt and whipped his shiny brow, turning to grab a spiral of wires when he spotted Six.

"Oh, h-hey t-there, Six, I d-didn't see you!" The toad exclaimed in shock and hurriedly draped a tarp over his work.

"What is it you are working on, Toad?" He enquired, studying the long shape underneath the covering.

"N-nothing, just a s-side project of m-mine is all!" Slippy stuttered loudly, doing little to convince him.

Six shrugged. The amphibian was obviously hiding something, but he cared little of what. What he cared for was whether the toad would be coming on the mission. Six considered it a grave tactical error to bring him along. By way of his previous thought, Slippy made a better engineer than soldier.

"Nah," The toad fiddled with the workbench, shifting tools around as he spoke, seemingly disappointed. "I'm sitting this one out. Fox wants me to go over the ship's systems again and fix up the Arwings. He thinks I'll be more important up here on the ship."

Six dipped his helmet in confirmation. "Mccloud is correct, your skills will be put to better use onboard the ship."

Slippy grinned up at him. "You think so? I know I'm not that great of a fighter."

"Not everyone is cut out to be a soldier." And the toad was definitely one of those that weren't.

"Yeah, you're right. I've never really been good at all that shooting and killing stuff." Slippy sighed and leaned back onto the tabletop.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of about that." Six knew that being a good soldier did not necessarily make you a good person, just a good killer.

The amphibian took on a contemplative air and scratched at his head. "I suppose not, thanks Six. I've never really thought of it like that before." The spartan's words made him feel a lot better about himself. He had always had a hard time knowing that all his friends were better at being a mercenary than he was. But now, he supposed it didn't mean he was any worse, just different. 

He looked up after his mention of gratitude and noticed that the spartan had already departed the room.

Slippy chuckled.

"The silent warrior just might have a soft side."

*****

Fox idled next to the Great Fox's shuttle, purchased from a CDF shipyard for a decent sum. They rarely used the thing but it did an excellent job of ferrying them all down to a planet when they didn't need their arwings. It also helped that the thing could fit a large group, and carried a cargo holds worth of ammunition and supplies.

He toyed with his blaster's settings and waited for the others to join him. Falco and Miyu went back to the armory earlier that morning to finalize preparations on the gear they were going to take with them and Krystal was deep in meditation. Peppy of course was going to stay behind and he had made sure that Slippy would as well. He didn't like hurting his friend's feelings, but the toad really was not the kind of guy to take with on a mission like this.

Fox hadn't seen Six since the day before, and in fact he never really saw the spartan. He never ate his meals with the team and he didn't mingle during the free time they had. It had been three days since he joined the team, and since then, Fox had never seen him out of armor or for more than a few minutes at a time. He was curious as to what the spartan did all day.

It pained Fox somewhat. He wanted Six to smoothly integrate into his team, but he was not as foolish as to believe it would happen quickly. He was just thankful that the spartan had been relatively accommodating of the others' especially Falco. He had even heard from the avian that the spartan had come down to the armory and asked him to help get acquainted with their gear. Fox doubted it went as well as Falco insisted, but he was glad to hear that Six was acclimatizing well enough.

There was also Miyu to think about, the female Lynx had displayed a curious amount of interest in their new member, asking Fox and Krystal what they knew about him and sometimes searching for him. He wasn't sure what the cat was thinking, he just hoped it wouldn't end up with the spartan breaking something.

Krystal was different. Fox had known her for some time and he knew when she was gnawing on a metaphysical bone. She had been interested in Six as well, but her probing was far more subtle, an occasional inquiry as to where he was or what he was doing.

So far Fay had displayed the least concern, treating him as just any other member of the crew. But that could be more attributed to the canine's shyness than anything else. Six was probably incredibly intimidating to her, heck, he even intimidated Fox.

The hanger's side door opened and the man in question entered, the spartan's suit newly refurbished and his weapons securely fastened to his back.

His armor fascinated Fox, it seemed something straight out of mythology, masterfully crafted and painted with strange runes. The breastplate held a striking resemblance to a well-built torso, its plates crafted alike to anatomical muscle and sculpted close to his frame. It was easy to assume that underneath he looked much like the armor indicated, and Fox was somewhat jealous. He would kill to have a body like that.

Six's helmet was another marvel. Judging from its looks, at one point a plume must have been attached to the crest along its center, but seemed to have been torn off at some time in his past. Now it was just a ridge of cerulean steel.

His silver visor was almost curved as it narrowed slightly into a T, harkening its style back to an age when swords and shields had been the dominant form of warfare. All in all it made for an formidable and concurrently eye pleasing design.

"Six..." He greeted the spartan.

"Mccloud..." The warrior responded deferentially as he stationed himself beside Fox, who still found it odd to have the veteran concede to him.

It seemed that the team was taking their sweet time to get down to the hanger and Fox used it to examine the spartan.

Fox admired his composure. Six didn't so much as fidget as he stood there in wait, completely devoid of the slightest trace of motion. Once more he was reminded of a medieval sculpture of an armored knight. Although, Fox had the sneaking that the statue would happen to move before the spartan did.

He had said that he had a team before this hadn't he? Fox couldn't imagine there being five others like him. One was more than enough. Were all humans like him? Six had said that he was created so perhaps not. But then what did the spartan mean when he said he had been created? The covenant must have been truly terrible if soldiers like Six were needed to fight them. Guiltily, Fox was glad that they were far off from him and his system.

Fox coughed quietly and dusted off his vest with a paw.

Where were the others?

Now he was starting to feel uncomfortable. The silent and inert individual in close proximity to him edged in on his thoughts. Fox felt like he should say something to break the silence.

"Hey...Six?"

He watched as the spartan's helmet slowly rotated to look down at him. 

"Have you ever fought in a jungle before?" Fox recalled his time on Sauria with both reluctance and joy. It had certainly been an interesting adventure, filled with magic, intrigue, danger, and annoying pet-sized reptilian princes.

"I have."

"What were you doing?"

"I was on assignment to assassinate a covenant HVT." Six replied offhandedly. He recalled the assignment quite easily. It had been a tiresome ordeal.

"And did you...do the job?"

"Affirmative, the target was eliminated, although, I spent the next week being hunted by elite kill-teams." He recalled the mission almost fondly. It had been quite an experience, his hunters had proved to be challenging opponents but in the end it was they who became the hunted. The bog he had made his hideout had ran purple with alien blood.

"Wow...sounds rough." Fox didn't know what an elite kill-team was, but it didn't sound all that pleasant.

"It was difficult, but rewarding in the end. The intel I recovered allowed the UNSC to preemptively evacuate a colony before the covenant glassed it." He had been told that millions of lives had been saved. All because he felt that the strange device the sangheili shipmaster had been holding might have been useful, turning out to be a covenant dataslate. They had even managed to leave a nice present for the covenant, a few HORNET nuclear mines. He was confident that they had appreciated the gifts.

"Sounds like you did good work." Saving the populace of an entire planet was an amazing feat, but he supposed it was just a normal occurrence for someone like Six.

Human lives had been saved and a decisive blow against the covenant was made. And so in a sense, he had done good work. Yet, how many more lives could have been saved if he had stayed? Of course he had not purposely come here, and by rights should have died, but still he wondered. Had he betrayed his principles? Had he strayed from his purpose? If the UNSC somehow discovered that he now worked for an alien would they condemn him as a traitor? There was no way to know the answer, and that offered him little comfort.

Six remained silent as the rest of the departing team arrived, Falco and Miyu lugging a heavy metal trunk, no doubt full of the gear they would need, behind them Krystal and Fay followed, deep in talk.

They went about the business of readying the ship for launch, heedless of the spartan's heavy thoughts.

"Six, come on let's go."

He shook away his worries and spotted Fox standing on the ramp, summoning him with a broad paw.

Nodding slowly, he marched up the ramp and settled in for the short flight.

*****

Zoness was just like any other jungle world Six had seen before, which went to say that it was dark, muggy, unpleasantly soggy, and oppressively hot.

It was fortunate that his MJOLNIR alleviated these problems for him. The rest of the team however...

"Did I ever tell you guys that I hate jungles?" Miyu growled as she slogged through the mushy terrain, her boots making distasteful suckling noises as she forced her way forwards. The feline was clearly exerting a great deal of effort judging by the darkened sheen to her fur and labored breath. "Parts of me are wet when I don't want them to be." She added with a mutter, tugging at her sticky flight suit in a most unladylike manner.

She was not the only one having a difficult time. Fay lagged behind with Krystal, the two women helping each other through the treacherous vegetation. Falco was a little ways ahead of them, slightly better at keeping his momentum.

Fox and Six led the disgruntled party, the vulpine marching determinedly behind the relentless spartan who continued on with no signs of difficulty. Just like Fox he had plenty of experience with traveling in hostile jungles and his augmented strength ensured his superiority.

"I had no idea, you've only said been saying that for the last couple of hours!" Falco snapped irritably. "How long is it until we get to the base? I thought you landed the shuttle close by." The avian demanded up the line.

Fox turned and stumbled on a surface root, his muzzle impacting painfully against Six's solid armor. Catching his fall using the spartan's forearm, he tenderly rubbed his injured snout. "I did, that was the closest clearing big enough for the shuttle." The vulpine's response was nasally as he wriggled his black nose and prodded it with a padded finger.

Six chose to ignore his touch to maintain his vigilant watch on their surroundings. Since the moment his boots touched the carpet of rotten leaves he felt that something was very wrong. Never had his instincts misled him. There was a danger in this dank jungle, what it is he had yet to discover. But he vowed to not get caught off guard.

Now only if they could stop bickering, he might be able to hear the natural sounds of the forest and filter out anything suspicious.

But such was not the case.

"Then why didn't we just land in the base? If we did we wouldn't have to slug through this damn forest!" Falco punctuated his aggressive reply by ripping a branch off a tree that had been hovering over his beak, violently throwing the unlucky length of wood to the damp jungle floor.

"If we did..." Fox retorted patiently. "Then there would have been no telling what awaited us. At least here we have time to prepare."

Falco scowled, knowing that Fox was right but not wanting to concede the point. "Well I don't have to like it!"

"None of us like it, Falco. Now do us a favor by keeping your beak shut." Miyu groaned, leaning against a tree and taking the time to rest and grab a swig from her canteen. 

Six watched the exchange with some trace of amusement and more than a little frustration. It was just another example of why it was foolish to work with non-spartans. They were complaintive, weak, and prone to random bouts of emotion. Throw all of that together and they were unreliable and dangerously unpredictable.

He was debating on whether not to step in and quell the irrational argument when he detected a quick crack of noise out in the undergrowth. It would have been difficult to catch without his MJOLNIR and all but impossible for them to notice with the confrontation clouding their hearing.

Yet it had come to him as clear as day, the sharp sizzling report of laser weapon.

He scanned the avenue of emerald foliage and pinpointed the direction the noise had originated from, off to the east, in the bearing of the compound. A quick analysis allowed him to come to a few conclusions. First, only one shot had been made, which meant that either the shooter had effectively taken their target down in that single shot...or they had not. In any case, it was confirmed that someone was running around the jungle and that there was a threat. It would be better to find this danger before it found them.

But a glance at his companions made his decision all but apparent. Fox had settled the argument but now it seemed they were going to take a break. He did not understand why. They had only been walking for less than five hours.

With a sigh he turned in the direction of the weapon report and shouldered his shotgun before noiselessly vanishing into the depths of the jungle.

*****

Now that tempers had cooled, Fox had suggested they take a breather. Krystal had been glad to hear that. The vixen found the stump of an old tree and scrapped the moss off the top with her staff before placing her rear against the cool wood with a pleased sigh.

She was no pushover in the endurance department, but they had been walking for quite some time and even she had to admit that she could use a good rest.

Fay joined Krystal on her stump, dropping to the makeshift seat with a groan. She did not have an easy time either.

"Gah...this is exactly why I became a pilot, so I didn't have to slog through inhospitable worlds." The snow white canine muttered sullenly as she raised a leg and plucked a boot off, shaking out the dirty jungle water that had slunk its way inside.

"I admit that I had hoped for the same." Krystal smiled as she watched her friend repeat the process with her other boot before placing them both on ground to air dry and holding her legs up.

"When this is all over I'm going to demand that Fox take us to Aquas for some beach time. I could use a margarita and a few surfer hunks about now." She sighed.

Krystal had a random thought. What would Six look like in a bathing suit? Indeed what did he look like at all under that hulking armor? She knew that he was quite muscular. His physique was not completely concealed under his suit.

The thought of what he might look like under all that plate made her chops flush in an uncharacteristic blush.

"Hey...where did Six go?"

Krystal yanked her muzzle up and searched with her eyes, noticing the distinct lack of a seven foot supersoldier. He had disappeared without anyone being the wiser. That could be...problematic.

"Uh...Fox."

"Yeah Krys...?" The orange furred vulpine asked from his reclining pose against a curved tree.

"We're missing someone."

Fox leaned away from the oak and noticed what she had.

"...Shit."

*****

Six crouched down beside a trail of fresh footprints pressed into the sponge-like turf, tracing a gloved finger across the depression.

'Weight and size indicates male, only one pair of tracks, he's alone.'

Leaning closer, he examined the spacing between each step.

'Wide and irregular...he was on the run...and is that...blood?' An abrupt splash of crimson fluid decorated the fronds of a plant less than a meter from the trail. Judging by the freshness of the blood, whatever wound it came from had to have been inflicted less than an hour ago.

Six dabbed a finger in the ruby red liquid and brought it up for closer inspection. A flick of his eye and tightening of his jaw activated his HUD's analytical software. After a quick examination he discovered that the blood belonged to a male, probably in his late thirties, blood type O+, and should probably lay off fatty foods.

Wiping the crimson stain off his hand with a leaf, Six rose up from his crouch. The footprints wandered off haphazardly on an eastern course, still aimed in the direction of the CDF garrison.

He had little difficulty following the trail. The farther in, the more ragged and heavy the boot prints became, accompanied by an excess of recently spilt blood. Six was beginning to see the beginning signs of panic, visible in the disturbed foliage and erratic pattern to the prints.

Yet what concerned him most, was the second set he discovered hounding after the first, they were completely foreign in origin. He had not seen its like, even amongst the many species of the covenant. The earthen image was sunken deep into the ground, implying that whatever had made it weighed a hefty sum. The four indentations in the wet dirt also led him to believe that it wielded four deadly talons on each toe.

Further concerning him was the general size of the track, it had to stand more than five feet in height, and it was fast, if the gapping between each mark was to be believed.

'Chased by unknown entity, possibly bioweapon mentioned in briefing...'

"GAAAAAAHH!"

A hellish howl of agony warbled through the immediate vicinity of the jungle around him, the sound originating from his point of interest.

Six dropped into a dead sprint, heading directly for the source of the cry. With his augmented speed he arrived within minutes, stopping in a small clearing, barely large enough to accommodate his girth and the ghastly sight before his eyes.

He had witnessed many horrendous things in his career, but this was something else entirely.

Six could tell that the body in the small field, (or rather what was left of it), had been venomian once, testified by the scattered diminutive shards of matte black armor and the broken rifle wreathed in blood lying next to an abandoned leg.

The body had been thoroughly torn into gory pieces, as if a feral monster had been let loose upon it. With the shout having only occurred minutes before, whatever had attacked the unfortunate venomian was swift and incredibly lethal. The corpse's chest cavity had been flayed open and the internal organs removed, possibly consumed by the terror that had committed this gruesome deed.

Seeing what this thing was capable of made Six think of the team. If they encountered this thing, he was certain they would be poorly equipped to stop it. Most of their heavier weapons had been left in the shuttle, they not wanting to have to ferry the cumbersome equipment through the unforgiving forest. And with their flimsy flight suits, those claws would easily rend their flesh.

Chirrup

Six halted his attempt to leave, the bushes off to his left shuddering in the breeze...except there was no breeze down under the jungle's canopy. He heard that same odd chirping noise to his right and checked his motion tracker, but the abundance of forest life congested it to the point of near uselessness.

A flicker of movement behind him caused the spartan to whip around, shotgun at the ready. Yet he found nothing and the darkened jungle assumed a far more ominous tone.

Slowly, attempting to remain silent, he pumped the receiver and ensured that the buckshot shell was in place, using his HUD to enact one more scan of the area.

Without warning, the tracker in his suit went haywire, the proximity alarm he had activated upon arriving on the planet erupting loudly into his ears. And yet he did not see anything approach.

As he tried to figure out what was going on, he was thrown viciously against a tree as his barrier shattered. The droning wail of the siren replaced by the shrieking klaxon of his suits shield collapse warning system as he attempted to stand up.

Before he could fully rise, a heavy weight firmly planted itself on his torso and the spartan felt a sharp jolt of pain shock his system. Blood spurting from a sudden open wound on his right shoulder, in-between the protective plates. Something unseen was scraping against his clavicle bone and digging for an artery. The spray of blood revealed the outline of a massive clawed limb pinning his body to the tree.

That was why he had not seen it before. It was utilizing some type of active camouflage. Yet even his pain had given him an advantage.

Now able to somewhat see his foe, he yanked the kukri from its sheath and hacked at the newly visible appendage, feeling his limb judder as the solid steel met thick hide.

This time a piercing shriek came from his enemy and the weight suddenly lifted, the spartan listening as a pair of heavy footfalls fled into the distance with a fading growl.

Grabbing his shoulder and stemming the flow of blood with a clenched grip on the bleeding wound, Six glanced down to his feet at the reptilian limb that had appeared out of nowhere.

If this was one of the bioweapons he had been warned about, he could now see why they were able to cripple an entire garrison. He could also assume that judging by the fate of the venomian soldier, these creatures no longer reported to their masters.

Putting away his shotgun and grabbing the separated limb, he slipped away from the clearing and made haste back to the team, hoping that the creature or any of its friends had not made quick work of them in his absence. He rather not have to learn how to pilot the shuttle on his own.

*****

"No one saw him leave?" Fox demanded in disbelief. Angered and concerned, he berated his team. Not only were they standing around some godforsaken forest, hours away from the shuttle, but they had lost a member already.

Fox was confident that Six could handle himself, it was his team he worried about. With him gone, they were more vulnerable to whatever was between them and the CDF installation.

The spartan had been declared missing half an hour ago, the team stopping their progress, not wanting to continue without him. Now they just loitered around the clearing, waiting as time dragged inexhaustibly onwards. Fox was considering pressing forwards. Sitting around in wait was only making them better targets.

"Alright, we have to keep moving. Six will catch up later." He sighed reluctantly.

"That will not be necessary."

Fox whirled his muzzle around and spied the spartan entering the glade.

Relief washed away his concerns, but he was not happy.

"Where the hell did you go?" Fox demanded. As he spoke he noticed the oddly colored paint trickling down the spartan's armor. It was strange. He didn't know that Six had red dye at his disposal.

"Hunting..." Was his even toned response, the spartan hefting something in his free gauntlet.

"Six, you're hurt!" Krystal exclaimed in surprise, she having caught on faster than Fox and the others. The vixen had to resist the powerful urge to run to his side, finding that such an action would have been considered peculiar and inappropriate.

With her words the vulpine realized that it was not paint running down the spartan's suit, but rather blood, the fluid heavily decorating the right side of his armored frame.

"It is a minor injury not worthy of alarm. We have far more to be concerned of." Six tossed something to the jungle floor with a wet thud.

At a quick glance it looked like the hand of a reptilian venomian, although far larger and armed with a ridiculously long set of nasty claws.

"What the hell is that?" Falco grimaced as he nudged the severed hand with the tip of a boot.

"I happened upon one of the venomian bioweapons. Judging from the mangled corpse of one of their soldiers, it would be plausible to assume that they have lost control of their pet monsters. Needless to say I deem it would be prudent to seek shelter at the CDF garrison. If it still stands that is."

Seeing that one of the bioweapons had drawn the spartan's blood, Fox felt it wise to follow the warrior's advice. He had fought against Andross' creations before and he had no desire to do so again. They were formidable enough when he was safely inside the cockpit of his arwing, he didn't want to imagine how dangerous they might be to tussle with on foot.

"That settles it then. We head out immediately, double time people!" Fox holstered his blaster and motioned for them to hurry and follow his lead.

Seeing the monstrous hand lying on the ground, there was little resistance to his command.

Six decided to switch places in this instance, taking position in the back of the group. In the event of an attack these creatures would most likely strike from the rear, thinking them vulnerable. He wasn't sure if that was the case, (most animals did not plan strategic assaults), but it often paid to be cautious. These were clearly no normal animal.

There was no dragging of feet now, none of them wanted to hang around long enough for any of the creatures that Six had warned of to show up.

Krystal had started their trek somewhere near the front of the group, but as they doggedly plodded through the vines and low hanging branches, she found herself little by little falling back to the rear. Her turquoise eyes every so often straying to Six, worriedly studying the gradually leaking wound in his shoulder, where the thick plates were absent.

He showed no outward signs of pain or distress over his wound, and she didn't know what to think about that. Just from a glance she could tell that it must have been extremely painful, she could clearly see the ragged tear in his strange black underarmor and the crusted blood forming around the puncture.

Eventually, it got to the point that she was now walking side-by-side with the looming spartan, feeling the desire to speak out.

"Are you...alright, Six?"

The spartan barely glanced in her direction as he spoke.

"I will live. It is hardly the worst injury to befall me. And it will not be the last."

She grimaced.

He was not making it easy to be polite. No matter, he was on the team now, so she had to at least make some effort to be nice. Besides, she might have been a little on the hostile side on first meeting him. Krystal decided to give him a chance. After all, he had lost his homeworld too, so in that way they should have been able to find something in common, even if it was rather morbid in its reasoning.

"Would you like me to help you bandage it?" She had some knowledge and training in medicine, both from her teachers back on Cerinia and from her time with Starfox. She was fairly confident she could help him, differences in species or not. Applying a bandage was pretty much universal.

"I...thank you for the offer. But it would ill advised to do so while the possibility of attack looms over us."

At least he was being more civil.

She nodded her acceptance and went silent, deciding to continue to travel at his side for now. Krystal was not afraid to admit that in the event of danger, she would have a better chance if she was next to him.

Minutes later in their journey, she looked back to him and noticed that the wound had already ceased its oozing, and the blood had completely dried. It didn't look pretty, but it worked. She supposed that his race must have rapid healing abilities. It would certainly come in handy for his profession.

"How much farther, Fox?" Miyu demanded from further up the line, her muzzle peaking over Fay's shoulder.

The vulpine paused and glimpsed his bracer, studying the small map he had downloaded off of ROB.

"Shouldn't be much farther, less than two kilometers to go I suspect. We should be coming across the clear zone in a few minutes. He was of course referring to the area of jungle cleared out around the base's perimeter. At least then they would have an easy time entering.

"Finally, when we get there I'm gonna pass out." Falco rasped, waving a feathered hand and blowing humid air across his beak in a futile effort to cool down. His plumage must have made it a challenge to endure such a heated and steamy environment.

Six had little pity.

"We haven't even started the mission yet bozo!" Fay scolded. "If you've already forgotten, we have no idea what we'll be stepping into. For all we know the base could be swarming with venomians."

Six heard her declaration and doubted it highly. The venomian fleet had pulled out earlier and it looked like anyone left on the ground was being hunted by the bioweapons. If he was to guess, he would say that whatever plan they had, failed, and they had decided to call it quits while it was still a viable solution. It was the smart thing to do instead of wasting valuable resources trying to fix the error on an enemy controlled world. Better to let them deal with it. The precautions Fox had ordered Peppy to take were pointless. The venomians would not be coming back anytime soon. They would likely find either a slaughterhouse or something else as equally unpleasant waiting for them.

He had not gotten a detailed look at his attacker, but after their brief confrontation he knew that they were not the type of creature to make clean efficient kills. They were lethal and chaotic.

The spartan checked his motion tracker once more and saw the five neutral white dots next to and around him, as well as the plethora of smaller dots signifying the forest life surrounding them. He had boosted the tracker's range from the standard twenty-five meters to the heightened one-hundred and fifty and so far nothing anomalous had appeared on the scans. It was all pretty consistent from what he had observed of jungle worlds before. The readings of course were not flawless, the motion tracker was not meant to function at the level he had pushed it for very long, and he couldn't be completely sure it was reliable. But it beat having a shorter radius. These things were fast and invisible. Twenty-five meters would be a wholly inadequate warning.

"I think that would be a blessing to be honest!" Falco exclaimed, the spartan realizing that they were stilling talking. In that regard they were quite human, marines tended to run their mouths just as much. Six remembered that he had to work with these aliens and tried to not let it irritate him too much.

"At least then we would be doing something other than slogging through some godforsaken humid jungle." The pheasant continued, although he did pick up the pace and look somewhat more like a professional mercenary.

Six heard a faint tone emit inside his HUD and he scanned his tracker again. A trio of additional contacts had manifested at the periphery of his sensors. Judging by their size there were not many guesses as to what they could be.

This was unfortunate.

They still had a few minutes' worth of travel before they reached their destination, and he doubted that the team would be able to outrun these things. It was a low possibility that he could even do such a thing.

With a resigned sigh, he shouldered his M45.

"Mccloud..." His firm yet quiet voice carried up the line easily, and he noticed that the triangular ears atop the head of vixen at his side perked up curiously in his direction.

"What is it, Six?" Fox enquired distractedly as he focused on trying not to trip on the scattered roots littering the jungle floor.

He was correct, at this current pace they would not make the time they needed.

"You must move faster. We are now being hunted."

"What? How do you know that?"

"My tracking system has picked up a small group of large contacts approaching. At current speed they will arrive before we reach the base."

"Well...son of a bitch." Falco groaned. "Isn't that great? As if this damned jungle wasn't enough."

"I don't mean to be a downer here, Six. But we are going as fast as we can." Miyu was breathing heavily and looked to be running out of stamina.

"I am aware. That is why I will stay here and slow them down." The spartan slowing to a stop as he spoke.

The team decelerated as they realized what he had just suggested.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there," Fox shook his muzzle adamantly. "You're not staying behind. One of those things already did that to you." He pointed at the rather obvious wound. "We're all sticking together, and that's an order."

"That would be an unwise command, Mccloud." He countered just as resolutely. "If I do not, they will reach you before you can make it to the installation. You have not seen what they are capable of as I have and there is little time to debate."

Fox's muzzle twisted into a sharp grimace. The vulpine believed Six was telling the truth, but that did not make it any simpler of a decision to make. He had never left one of his team behind, and he had no desire to do so now. But he was also acutely aware that they were not given many options.

He scanned his team's faces, seeing a mixture of worry and perhaps, even a small sliver of fear. No one liked being hunted, and being in a foreboding jungle such as this did not make it an easier thought to think about.

"Time, Mccloud...we are running out of it."

With a heavy sigh, Fox conceded. "Fine, you have my permission. But you better not die, that's an order."

There was a faint grin in the spartan's response. "Agreed...now, I suggest you start moving. They will be here before long."

"Forget double time, leg it!" Fox and the others hurriedly jogged away.

Krystal was hesitant to get moving and found that her lips began to form words of their own volition as she slowly turned to leave.

"Stay safe, Six."

The spartan did not reply and soon she had lost sight of him in the jungle.

*****

Now they were gone, he could focus one more. This time he would not be caught off guard so easily. If they wished to use camouflage, then he would as well. He pulled out the small armor mod in his left thigh's equipment latch and attached the covenant device to the port built into the shallow divot on his lower spine.

With a snug click, the device slid effortlessly into the socket and his HUD instantaneously updated with the new software, running a system patch and integrating the alien tech smoothly with his armor systems.

The trio of contacts increased their speed, no doubt noticing that their quarry was attempting to run. They would fall upon him within moments.

Six activated the camo and faded into the jungle without a sound.

*****

Less than a minute later, three separate tracks slipped into the clearing the team had vacated, the unseen creatures sniffing around for a fresh scent of their recently departed prey. They had been tracking the small group of warm bloods since they had scented them and the abnormal hollow bird they had come from.

Their existence had been one of confusion and rage, dropped out of strange containers that could not be cut by claws and floundering in an environment that was not of the cold unforgiving womb they had originated from. This warm and thriving place was perfect for hunting.

There was much prey to be had, unusual creatures covered in a strange coating of material that clung unpleasantly to their fangs. But the soft meat inside was worth the discomfort. The animals they hunted came in a variety as well. The ones in black had been the easiest to catch, even approaching the pack upon seeing them. After the first few had been devoured, the rest of the black ones had not been as easy.

The ones in white and blue tasted sweeter, but were harder to catch. Many had escaped and were hiding inside their walled den. The rest of the pack had yet to find a way inside to the sweet meat, but now it seemed that more had been provided.

Sniffing at a deep print in the ground, the creature at the head of the party growled.

The scent was that of the one that had severed its limb.

It had been interested in the being. Its odor was unlike that of the others, almost scented like the womb.

After its curiosity had sated, it had tried to determine whether it tasted just as sweet inside its blue shell. But it had underestimated its prey. The thing was far more dangerous than first anticipated.

It was not prey, but a fellow hunter, with false claws and great strength.

It had no choice but to retreat and find more members of its pack. Now it could find this hunter, and see if its meat was the sweetest.

A chirp from its left alerted it that one of its pack mates had found the scent. The meat reeked of doubt and fear, a mouthwatering aroma.

The prey was trying to reach the den, no doubt to join the others. If that happened they would lose out on their meal. And that was unacceptable.

With a low growl, it ordered the pack to resume the hunt.

An odd noise halted it, watching as a rock fell from up above. Rocks did not fall from the great blue. With a curious trill, one of its pack mates went closer and nosed the object. The rock was not like any other it had seen, with unnatural grooves.

Nor did rocks leak smoke.

*****

Fox and the others raced towards the base, trying to distance themselves from the creatures Six had warned off. It was not easy, running through the jungle, but it was preferable to what was hunting them.

The sting of leaving Six the spartan behind was still very much present. But it had been the logical thing to do, not what he felt was the right thing. They should have all been traveling together. But whatever those things were would have caught up. And he really didn't want to fight them in this cluttered environment.

As they ran, a loud explosion shook the thick trunks around them, coming from father back down the path. Hearing the detonation made Fox hesitate for a moment, almost deciding turning back to help Six. But doing so would have made his effort pointless.

At least the spartan's offer meant that he put some value into their lives. So maybe he was starting to warm up to them. Fox decided that he would make more of an effort to get him to open up. Once this mission was over and if, Pepper had nothing else planned for them, he thought it would be a good idea to show the spartan some of the reasons why Corneria was worth fighting for.

"This doesn't feel right, Fox." Miyu muttered with a disheartened look on her muzzle.

He could see what the feline's point. Starfox was a team of friends rather than associates. Fox wanted it to be more of a family than a group of individuals there for their own desires. And as such, every member was important. It was one of the reasons Fox attributed to their success. It was far easier to work together when you were close to your team, and you would be far more liable to help them.

"It's alright. Six knows what he's doing. I doubt a couple of overgrown lizards could take him down." After Fox had seen the spartan's handiwork on Oikonny's dreadnought, he was certain of that much.

Some of his confidence must have passed on to her, as the feline's ears perked back up and she seemed to have picked up her pace.

"Yeah, I guess I should be more worried for the lizards." She attempted an untroubled chuckle rather successfully.

As he jogged, Fox glanced at his bracer and saw that they should be coming up on the clear zone at any moment. From there it should be a relatively quick walk to the base's defensive walls.

And low and behold, soon after that thought he pushed through a natural wall of undergrowth and found himself in a wide open space. Ahead of him, a tall and imposing ring of shining steel encircled a mid-sized compound. It was pretty standard for CDF military installations, and he would have given it more thought if not for the circumstances.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing and signaled for his team to hurry and make for the gates. A glance at the walls let him know that the base was still manned, as a dog in stained silver and blue armor looked quite surprised to see them.

The vulpine watched as he turned to look down into the base and began to bark down orders, hopefully they were to open the gate and not open fire.

His famous luck held as he watched the massive gates draw open with a low groan of rusted mechanisms.

Wanting to ensure that his team made it safely, he waited by the vegetation marking the cleared zone and counted them all.

Miyu was the first to blaze past him, the feline's natural speed bolstered by circumstance, allowed her to quickly cross the field and slip into the gates. Behind her, Falco helped Fay, the canine must have tripped and hurt her ankle while Fox was preoccupied because she limped as the avian held her up.

The last one to pass by was Krystal, the vixen looking somewhat concerned as she hurried by.

Fox was surprised to see her so openly worried about Six. It was quite unlike her. If not for the looming imminent danger, he might have put more thought into what that could mean.

He turned to pass into the gates himself when his sharp ears picked up on the deep roar of the spartan's weapon and the heart stopping shriek of a creature in pain. Judging by the sounds, he was not that far away.

Fox decided at that moment that enough was enough. It was time that he did something.

The vulpine unholstered his blaster and dashed back into the forest to the sounds of combat.

*****

Six snarled up into the enormous fanged jaws of the creature pinning him to the ground and savagely wrenched his gauntlets to his right with a series of spine rattling pops, instantly the reptilian ceased its movement and he hurled its lifeless corpse into a tree.

Swiftly, he surged back to his feet and snatched his shotgun from the ground just in time to send a burst of buckshot into another beast in the midst of trying to pounce on him. The torrent of pellets tore it out of the air in a spray of crimson gore.

The spartan racked the slide and watched as another pair of the large bioweapons slipped into view, grinding their massive jaws together with the clatter of deadly fangs as their yellow eyes locked onto him and narrowed into reptilian slits. Behind them he could see even more obscure shapes lurking in the shadowed depths of the jungle.

So far things were going rather well.

He sprung his trap successfully, the grenade doing an excellent job at lowering their numbers. But he had not counted on the swift arrival of more of these beasts. He had been almost overwhelmed by the sheer numbers suddenly thrown against him. Thankfully, while razor sharp, their claws and fangs were unable to pierce his MJOLNIR's reinforced plating. However they had managed to add quite a few new scores into the azure plate.

A flash of movement to his side signaled that another of these saurians was attempting to flank him. Six pivoted and smashed the stock of the M45 against the approaching reptilian's snout, feeling the cartilage give way under the hardened steel.

Mewling, it collapsed to the jungle floor and grasped at its broken muzzle.

The spartan lashed a heavy titanium greave at the wounded beast and caved its skull in with a sickening crunch. As its grey matter splattered against his armor he turned his shotgun and blasted back one of its cohorts in a shower of splintered bone.

A third jumped and latched onto his back, the spartan falling to his knees under its weight. He felt burning needles dig into his already wounded shoulder as the creature snapped its fang filled maw closed and sunk its incisors in deep.

Six gritted his teeth and reached over his back, digging his gauntlets into the hijacker and tossed it over his shoulder, ripping it away from its toothy grip. He slammed the reptilian into the ground with enough force to shatter its spine and crushed its skull with a mailed fist for good measure.

As he rose up he risked a fleeting look at his shoulder, spying several new additions to the tear already in his underarmor. Luckily, the beast did not have enough time to do much damage and his HUD informed him that the injuries were not severe, not that it made him any less furious, scolding himself for letting it happen.

He was not functioning at his normal level. These animals should never have been able to inflict such damage if any at all.

Six unloaded the remaining five shells in the M45 and cut down a pair of the creatures attempting to close with him.

The spartan knew what the problem was. He allowed himself to grow complacent and unfocused, thinking too much on his predicament. Six could not afford to let his mind wander.

He twisted to the side and evaded a swipe from a clawed hand, smashing his fist the attacker's chest and felt it yield under his augmented strength.

The saurian capsized and vomited forth a pinkish slurry of pulped organs from its lips as it fell. He stepped over its corpse and swung the empty shotgun into another creature, using it like a makeshift club. The shotgun brained his target and he finished it by pulverizing its windpipe under his heel and charging into the next one

Smashing it to the side, he lanced a boot out and the force of the blow impacted its companion and crushed the majority of the bones in its body into powder.

No more.

He would not tolerate further personal failure.

It seemed that these creatures had not received the vivid message, continuing to advance upon him, stepping over the corpses of their brethren. They seemed countless, the spartan seeing even more approaching from the distance, weaving in and out of the trees as they closed in.

One of the reptilians attempted a repeat attack, trying to jump at him from up high and possibly take him by surprise.

As he reached for his magnum a flurry of red bolts burned their way into its throat and cut its leap mid-flight, dropping the smoldering carcass to the dirt.

"Looks like you owe me one."

The spartan turned to his back in a rare moment of disbelief.

Fox stood behind him, the barrel of his blaster emitting a wispy trail of smoke.

So...Mccloud had come back for him. How...interesting.

Six leveled his magnum at Fox and pulled the trigger, cutting down the saurian attempting to ambush the unawares vulpine.

"Even..." The spartan grunted.

Fox looked shocked and turned to see the dead reptile, its claws only a few scant centimeters from his boot. He turned back to Six and grinned with a brief chuckle.

"So we are. Now let's get the hell out of here!" The vulpine's blaster crackled as its owner directed the weapon with remarkable accuracy. The crimson lances of energy hit eyes, throats, wherever the creatures were most vulnerable.

Using the vulpines covering fire, he reloaded the M45 and holstered his Magnum, following after Fox.

"Now, that is a wise command." The spartan rumbled in approval as he removed one of his remaining grenades and pulled the pin before tossing it behind them. "I suggest we vacate the area post haste."

"Agreed." Fox nodded and ducked his head, running as fast as he could.

Six jogged casually behind him and sheltered the vulpine from the explosion, feeling the shrapnel ping off his newly recovered shields.

The grenade had proved to be an effective deterrent and they were able to get ahead of the swarm of claws and fangs, but the creatures were relentless and their reprieve was short lived.

Fox cried out in surprise as a flash of scales bowled him over.

The vulpine was able to save his life by grabbing the jaws of the beast and keeping it at bay.

Six acted fast, lowering a shoulder and charging forwards. He collided with the saurian holding Fox down and the pair hit the dirt fighting.

It hissed and snarled as its talons scrabbled at his breastplate but was unable to find purchase on the smooth alloy. He planted his gauntlets firmly on its chest and pushed, throwing it off him and into the air.

The reptilian caught itself on a tree and recovered, but was stopped before it could move to attack.

Fox ran up from the spartan's left and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick, his boot smashing into its chest. Unceremoniously, he aimed his blaster down at the fallen creature and released a volley of short range bolts, silencing its howls of pain.

Six and Fox shared a quick nod before resuming their escape, pushing through into a wide open clearing.

"There's the base!" Fox announced unnecessarily and ran for the open gates.

Six followed the vulpine into the compound and scanned his surroundings as the massive doors quickly slammed shut behind them and ended the pursuit.

He was surprised to see that the base was not deserted, but rather filled with a ragged bunch of cornerians in sullied uniforms.

The spartan turned to Fox, silently watching the vulpine as he wheezed and leaned forwards, bracing his paws on his knees.

He had come back for him, risked his life to help. Six could have easily handled it himself, but the sentiment was...welcomed.

"Well...that was fun...never want to do it again...but fun." Fox panted in-between breaths as he looked up to the spartan with a roguish grin.

"Fox...Six!" A cheerful voice cried out and both turned to see Krystal and the others hurry over.

The spartan watched as the cerulean vixen ran up to the vulpine and wrapped him up in a tight hug, seeing that made him feel...strange...hollow.

He didn't like it.

"Hey, guys!" Fox chuckled lightly.

"We were worried there for a moment." Miyu slowly walked up to them, glancing to Six briefly before focusing on Fox. "There was a lot of howling out there."

"Aw, nothing Six and I couldn't handle." Fox shrugged off before grinning widely. "You should have seen it! He threw one of those things into a tree like it was a toy. It was awesome!"

The spartan felt a small smirk tug at his lips. He wouldn't call what he did "awesome". But he found that the vulpine's enthusiasm to be somewhat amusing. It was not often that he was congratulated on his abilities.

Their reunion was cut short by a low and careworn voice.

"Ah yes, the legendary Fox Mccloud."

The identified vulpine turned to the speaker and saw a haggard greyhound in a frayed officer's uniform, his left arm wrapped in gauze and held up by a sling.

"Yeah...that's me. You are?" Fox asked curiously.

The grey furred canine sighed sadly.

"I am Captain Siegfried Galaleos, and the acting commander. Colonel Ash Howzer was killed in the line of duty last week." 

Fox grimaced.

"I take it you are the reinforcements we requested? I must shamefully admit I had thought there would be...more." The Captain looked understandably disappointed.

"Unfortunately we're all there is. The General couldn't spare any more resources. This planet is not the only one under attack."

"So...it's as bad as I suspected." The canine muttered thoughtfully. "The Colonel and I figured this went bigger. How bad is it? You're companions tell me that we are not the only ones under attack. And as you might have noticed..." He gestured to the slagged remains of a radar dish sitting atop the concrete building at the center of the base. "We haven't had much opportunity to learn for ourselves."

"Macbeth, Katina, and Fortuna are also under siege by venomian forces, although they're holding last we heard."

"At least something's going right then." Siegfried muttered. "I hope they're doing better than we are."

The base was in shambles. Carbon scoring marked the walls and structures and dried patches of blood littered the field. The fighters sitting on the airfield were nothing but piles of scrap and a landmaster stuck out of the corner of a building, buried in rubble. It looked like the venomians had managed to do some damage before they were repelled and the bioweapons unleashed.

The base personnel's conditions were little better. Not a single one of them was free of injury, and many looked like they could barely stand. Fox counted about roughly a hundred of them sitting around or maintaining watch along the walls. There were probably a couple more inside the buildings, but there was supposed to be a full contingent of the 45th CDF marine core, tallying to two-hundred in total plus support staff.

There were a lot missing.

"Well in any case, Fox." The Captain sighed tiredly and gestured around him. "Welcome...to what's left of Fort Galahad."


	8. Past, Present, Future

Chapter 7: Past, Present, Future

 

"I hope you came here with a plan, because we sure as hell don't have one."

"Of course I have a plan." Fox replied confidently as he glanced out of the command center's wide four-sided window, studying the individuals bellow. There wasn't much for them to do while trapped inside the base, so most of their efforts were spent on trying to pick up the pieces, mopping up blood stains and removing the rubble and scrap that littered the field. Even though it had been more than a week since they were attacked, there was still much to be done if they wanted to restore order.

He had ordered his team to spread out amongst the soldiers, help them where they could. Fay was in the communications building, trying to see if she could assist the surviving comms officer with reestablishing radio contact with the rest of the system. Falco was among the security personnel, trying to devise a way for them to further secure the base from infiltration. Krystal had decided to see if her medical expertise could be of some use to the injured staff. And surprisingly enough, Six and Miyu were together, although it looked more like the feline was following him around more than anything else.

The spartan was traversing the walls, scanning the tree line for any signs of the bioweapons. Miyu ambled behind him, probably trying to use the time to talk.

Fox wished her luck. While he was starting to get used to them, Six was still a long ways off from casual conversation.

"Then please, enlighten me." A voice growled softly.

Fox turned away from the window and back to the CDF captain. He chose to forgive the canine for his impatience. Siegfried and the others had been through hell. Fox could see that much at a casual glance and he had experienced it for a brief moment himself back in the jungle. The greyhound certainly deserved to be more than a little frustrated with him.

The problem was, he didn't really have a plan.

Sure, he had not forgotten what the General's orders had been. Establish contact with the garrison and eliminate the threat. Well they had found the garrison. Fox just had no idea in hell how he was supposed to complete the second part. These things were dangerous, and there was no telling how many the venomians had brought. And to make matters worse, the shuttle was a seven hour slog through the infested jungle, and he doubted those things would let them take a pleasant stroll back.

Without that shuttle, they had no way of leaving the planet or contacting Peppy or anyone else. The natural interference from the untouched mineral deposits under the expansive rainforest made regular comms devices all but useless from any distance longer than thirty kilometers.

That gave Fox an idea for a temporary plan.

"Well, first thing we need to do is fix the radio tower and get in contact with the General." That would give them something to do while he tried to find out what their next step was going to be.

Siegfried grimaced and shuffled his sling. "We've already tried to fix the comms systems, but we don't have the parts we need and our senior tech specialist is dead."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Fay can find a way past that, at least temporarily. From there we can speak with Pepper and maybe get at least one ship out here to extract you or send reinforcements. A couple landmasters or some PX-30's could go a long way."

The Captain still looked doubtful. "And you believe she can fix it? The tower looks pretty much like scrap to me."

Fox nodded. "Absolutely, she's one of the best techies I know. She'll have it up and running soon enough."

"I definitely hope so. I'm not sure how much more we can take. We've lost so many." The greyhound's gaze passed through the window and to the makeshift graveyard dug into the airfield's soil, rows of improvised tombstones jutting from the dirt like broken teeth.

Fox followed the captain's stare and felt a pang of regret. "I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner. The General didn't receive word of this until just a few days ago. We came as fast as we could."

Siegfried sighed heavily and for a brief moment his façade dropped, revealing a tired young soldier weighed down with the substantial encumbrance of a responsibility he was not ready to bear.

"I do not blame you or your friends. I simply wish this had never happened, or that Colonel Howzer had lived rather than I. I'm not fit to lead, as you can see. These soldiers rely on me, and look at what their faith has done for them. I lost little less than half to the venomians and their damned creations, seventy-four loyal and honest soldiers. My leadership had done worse than nothing!" The dog snarled and would have smashed his palm against the table if not for the fact his arm was broken.

"I disagree." Fox countered. "You've played the terrible cards you were dealt as well as you could. Don't take all the blame for what's happened. All you can do is move on and keep doing your best."

Siegfried snorted and gave a weak smile. "I wish I had your optimism, Fox. Fine, I'll think on your advice. We'll just have to see how it takes. Now, with that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, I have a question, about one of your team members."

Fox had been waiting for this.

"Yeah?"

"I do remember most of your team from the stories they tell and the videos on the news networks. But I do not recall such an...individual, as the one currently policing the battlements."

"Six? He's a recent addition to Starfox. He joined shortly after he helped repel Oikonny's attack on Corneria."

The captain seemed to have a slight difficulty with trying to formulate his words. "If I may...what exactly is he?"

Fox chuckled. "Now that is a long story. But to make it short and to the point, he's a soldier."

"From where? I know we don't have anything like the armor he wears. And I have never seen someone so...imposing."

Fox could see what the greyhound was talking about. Six had yet to clean the gore from his suit and it made for quite a grisly sight, as if the spartan was not already intimidating enough. He did not feel comfortable with telling of the spartan's secrets. And he was not sure if Pepper wanted the rest of the CDF to know of his origins.

"I'm not sure where exactly. But he's been with us for a couple of days and so I trust him. And that's good enough for me."

"I see..."Siegfried was clearly dissatisfied with his answer, but there was far too much to think about to let it bother him.

"In that case, might I have a suggestion?

 

*****

 

The jungle was all but quiet. There had been no activity since he and Fox had made it into the installation. The bioweapons had chosen not to press the attack after they reached safe harbor and by the spartan's guess, most must have returned to their lair. He was confident that a few had stayed behind to keep watch over the base. While his tracker remained quiet, he occasionally noticed disturbances along the tree line, the flutter of leaves, the faint crackle of fallen twigs.

They were out there, waiting in the silence.

Ah, silence, if only it held the same here as well.

"Hey Six, are you ever going to take care of all that blood? Because it's starting to gross me out a little." The feline sauntering behind him had not ceased her questions for some time, this just being one of many.

Still, she may have a point. He should tend to his injuries and sanitize his armor. His shoulder ached and all the dried blood was starting to affect the joints of his suit. Now that the danger had passed for the moment he could afford to deal with his grievances.

He also had been delaying for another reason. His medkit was not one of the supplies he had brought with him. So he could not tend to the wounds himself. The vixen had earlier propositioned him a second time with the request that she help him. Her sudden interest into his wellbeing was a matter of concern for him. He was not sure why she was now seemingly less hostile or why she was choosing to attempt to be friendly. But he could not put his injuries off forever, or else they would start to affect his combat abilities. And he could not allow that to happen.

"Soon..." He muttered to himself.

"Good, it's not a smart idea to ignore that kinda stuff. I knew a guy once, the macho type..."

The feline began on her reminiscent tirade and immediately Six tuned her out, her monologue muffled in the background.

He hoped that Fay would get the comms up soon.

 

*****

 

Krystal's paws skillfully draped a fresh wrapping of gauze onto the leg of the soldier in the bed in front of her. The ursine inflicted with a deep gash in his calf, earned by a close encounter with one of those bioweapons.

The infirmary was full with soldiers in similar or worse condition. By the wounds, she could tell that many of these unfortunates had first paw experience with the creatures. The doctor, a beleaguered weasel by the name of Harvey, had been glad to take her help. He and his small collection of nurses were terribly understaffed to deal with such a heavy concentration of wounded.

Once finished up with the bear, she collected the supplies and extra gauze before moving onto the next patient. There were plenty to choose from.

As she tended to a canine with a ghastly cut across his muzzle, she allowed her mind to wander.

Six had refused her offer of help for a second time. After he and Fox had made it back, she had been so glad to see them safe, surprised to find that her concern had also carried over to the spartan. The vixen was not sure why his welfare was so important to her. Sure, he was one of the team, but when he had elected to stay behind so that they could escape...

She had felt anxious.

It baffled her, she had only known him for a few short days, most of which he remained distant from her and the others. But Krystal felt it nonetheless. Perhaps it was because like her, he too had his world taken from him. As one might expect, not many people in the Lylat System could relate. She just wanted someone that could understand what it was like to be completely lost and alone. And she felt that he would and did. Fox and the others could only do so much, but in the end they could all just go back to their homes. Admittedly, the thought of that filled her with an unwilling bitterness.

The canine's muzzle was patched up and she continued on.

It seemed like hours, moving from one to the next, setting broken bones, mending torn flesh. It was a grisly job, but worthwhile in her eyes. Krystal preferred fixing rather than breaking.

Eventually, she finished with her last patient and went to the sink to wash the blood from her fur. A glance at the clock told her that she had been in here for a couple of hours. She did what she could but it wasn't much. Many here needed some serious medication, but they had quickly run out. There plenty of supplies up on The Great Fox, but they had no way of getting there, at least no easy way. Without those, she wasn't sure if some of these soldiers would make it.

With a tired yawn, she dried up with a cloth and stepped out of the infirmary and into the darkening sky. Night was soon approaching, and she was not relishing the knowledge that they would be spending it down here on the planet. At least the bunkhouse had beds for them to use and they were relatively safe behind the walls. She had not been able to get a good look at the creatures of Andross' legacy, but from their sounds, she was okay with that.

Krystal hoped that Fay was doing alright. She had been in the comms building since they made it here, trying to get them up and running again. The vixen sincerely hoped that she would be able to.

Grabbing her staff from its lean against the side of the building, she crossed the field and headed towards the bunkhouse. As she wandered across, she could not help but look up to where she had seen the spartan last. Unsurprisingly he was still on the wall, steadfastly guarding the ramparts.

What was with that man anyways? Did he ever stop being a soldier? Every time she saw him, he was either, preparing for war, dwelling on it, or actively seeking it. He did nothing else. He did not spend time with the team and defiantly not any with her. The vixen felt a sudden surge of irritation, startled to find that it was directed at him.

Interesting enough to grab the vixen's occupied attention, Miyu seemed to have gotten into a disagreement with the spartan before storming down the steps. Krystal watched as she thundered toward the barracks, looking none too pleased.

"Idiot! Stupid overbearing hunk of steel!" The cat hissed and spat as she neared the vixen.

"What's wrong?" Krystal inquired as she took in her friend's irritation.

"Six..." She began with a prickly grimace. "...has elected to stay on watch...all night."

"All night, that's crazy!" Zoness had thirty hour days, which meant that the nights lasted fifteen.

"You tell him that! I've already tried and he's still dead set on waiting it out. Maybe you'll have better luck." The feline muttered, flinging a paw dismissively in his direction before entering the building beside her with a final scoff. She having had run out of patience.

Krystal's eyes thoughtfully shifted between the newly closed door and the spartan's lonesome patrol. The promise of a somewhat warm and soft bed, battled with the knowledge that Six would be standing sentry in silent solitude unless something was done.

"Oh damn it all." The vixen groaned in annoyance as she shuffled her staff and turned to the stairs leading up to the wall.

 

*****

 

Night had consumed the jungle, the blanket of darkness draping across the expanse of disorderly trees and twisted vines. The spartan scanned the immediate area and turned on his heels, starting his sixth consecutive rotation on the wall.

As he stood guard over the battlements, he could not help but let his mind wander, justifying his lapse of concentration with the assurance that his tracker would make up for his distracted state. It was a pitiful excuse, but he found that he could not concentrate on his duty either way.

He had been more than a little shocked with himself after his actions against the feline that had been wandering the walls with him mere moments ago. Undeniably, he should have shown far more restraint then he had. But something she had said made him temporarily lose control.

"I'm just trying to look out for a friend!" She had mewled that in exasperation after he had rebuffed her advice for the fifth time.

Friend, there was that word again. Why did they insist on this unserviceable term?

He could not quantify why, but hearing her say what she did...insinuate what she did, that had filled him with sudden all-consuming fury. What did she know of friendship? She knew nothing of who he was inside his armor, what he had been forced to endure, just as he knew nothing about her. It was a childish flight of fancy to assume that friendship could be gained so quickly. They had barely crossed words since he joined.

So the spartan had rounded on her, defaming the feline and her actions. And he had watched, in dark satisfaction, as she recoiled and withered under his heated words, like a flower trapped under the oppressive heat of a desert sun. But she had not gone quietly, firing off with a trail of equally impassioned words as she left.

However, as she strode off in a fury, the vindicating sense of gratification he felt quickly faded, replaced by self-loathing and consternation. He may have been a spartan, but underneath all the cybernetics and layers of titanium plating and psychological conditioning, he was still human...mostly. And he liked to believe that there was something left of his forgotten humanity under all that.

He had displayed none of this in his previous actions. His retort had been callous and cruelly aimed to inflict pain. Even without immediate warfare, he still felt the need to hurt people. Perhaps the marines had been right about him and the others. They truly were monsters.

Sighing, he stopped his patrol and leaned against the rampart's railing, staring off into the silent jungle and wishing that his thoughts could be the same. Maybe it would have been best if he had died back on that corvette? He was no longer alarmed that such a notion had arisen inside him more than a few times in the past few days. At the moment, he was a far cry from a spartan's renowned resilience and determination. Six was starting to believe that it had been an error in judgment for him to join Fox and his merry little band. He was a fool to think they could replace Noble Team.

What was he doing here? What had he to gain from all of this? Was there even a reason to keep going? These questions had plagued him relentlessly since his arrival, and the lack of an answer filled him with a hollowness he had never experienced before.

After his home had burned and all he knew was taken from him, it had been ONI and the spartan program that had given him purpose, filled the holes in his soul. They may not have had his best interest at heart, but it had at least been something. Now he was on his own again, feeling just as lost and confused as he had been aboard the pelican that had taken him from his dying world, his only vivid memories being the purplish haze tainting the air and the overwhelming scent of burnt ozone.

A strange noise shook him out of his reflection and threw him into alert, the sounds of a tortured scream. Six searched for the source of the disturbance and realized that it had come from just below him. Glancing down, he noticed that the metal bar he had been leaning on was distorted and twisted into abnormal shapes, the perpetrators of the act closed tightly around the battered steel.

Carefully, the spartan extracted his hands from the warped metal and stepped back, gazing down at his blue gauntlets in mild curiosity at this new experience, watching as his gloved fingers twitched ever so slightly, almost as if they now had a mind of their own.

They had never done that before.

Before he could dwell on what that signified, he heard an approaching pair of feet and turned to face them, subconsciously placing his trembling hands behind his back and blocking the view of the vandalized metal.

He half expected the feline to return with a fresh batch of insults but was surprised to see the azure vixen sedately strolling towards him in her place. For whatever reason, she looked different, not like the other times he had laid eyes on her, as if some previous filter had been lifted from his vision.

The eyes that usually held such loathing and distaste for him were now filled with curiosity and perhaps...sympathy? He did not know how much she had witnessed, and the thought that she might have seen him at such a vulnerable and weakened state filled him with inwardly aimed disgust.

Her poise stuck out far more than usual to his eyes as she strode with notable grace and confidence. The armored flight suit she wore was perfectly matched to her fur tone and fit perfectly to her lean and flowing contours. No doubt she was a fast and agile adversary in combat, although her choice of coloring was garish in his opinion. Camouflage would have suited her far better. The vixen's tail fluttered softly behind her, the white peaked appendage weaving gently back and forth in the wind, a sight he was still not used to seeing.

Six was not fluent in the physical mannerisms of these aliens, and their peculiar muzzles and animalian appendages made it difficult to judge their age or emotions. But he was fairly confident in his assumption that she was perhaps in the same age group as himself, somewhere in the late teens or possibly early twenties. Six had never had reason to celebrate birthdays and so he had forgotten what age he was. The years of endless warfare tended to blend together and he had been thrown into combat when he had still been very young. But he was confident he could no more than twenty-three.

He could get somewhat of an idea on hers by the lack of age bearing crinkles on her muzzle and the vibrant luster to her sapphire coat. He guessed that her range was anywhere from nineteen to twenty, all speculation of course.

What else stuck itself out to him was her unusual black nose. It shone wetly in the moonlight and the whiskers on her cheeks twitched of their own violation.

What a strange species.

The spartan realized that they had been silently eyeing each other for some time and became aware of something he had never experienced before.

He felt awkward.

"Yes...?" He growled, feeling the familiar rush of anger.

He didn't know why, but those turquoise eyes and that faint canine lipped smile fueled his temper. It was an alarming development and he forced himself to relax, easing his gauntlets from behind his back and lowering his guard as much as he could force himself to.

The vixen did not respond immediately, choosing to stare up into his silver visor with the faint trace of a friendly smile in an irritating and simultaneously intrusive way.

Those eyes, he felt as if they could see right through him, peering into his soul. He had not forgotten what she was and it only made him more distrustful, she could very well be doing just that.

He watched as she walked around him, the spartan turning to keep a wary eye on her as she elected to lean on the undamaged railing and gaze up into the night sky, almost ignoring the bewildered hulking armored supersoldier standing less than a meter from her. 

Her coat glowed unnaturally brightly in the moonlight and the spartan idly wondered if it had perhaps been altered by some form of advanced cosmetics to achieve such a bizarre feat.

"It's a beautiful night tonight, don't you think?" The vixen enquired amiably as she turned her muzzle to him once more, that selfsame pleasant grin on her furred features. Her tail swung lazily from her lower back, signifying that she was at ease. Strange given how close the hyper-lethal spartan was to her. Most people tended to be in a constant state of fear around him, whether they were aware of his deadly reputation or not.

Her question caught him by surprise and he found that he had no response. He must admit, he had never chatted about the weather before. Still, as he looked up into the star filled sky he supposed she did have a point. The night sky was indeed pleasant, one of the very few he witnessed not tarnished by the flashes of weapons fire and black smoke. The lack of pain filled screams was also an enjoyable added bonus.

Six nodded silently in agreement.

"Still not much of a talker huh?" The vixen chuckled lowly, finding some fount of amusement in his actions.

Again a nod...

This was all deep in uncharted waters for him, and he was taking a guarded approach, lest he become lost in them. Six did not know of this vixen's intentions, why she was attempting to speak with him. But he remembered his previous dishonorable actions and was making a conscious effort to be as courteous as he was capable of being.

As if understanding his inner plight, she nodded along with him and gazed back up into the sky, becoming silent once more.

Six's head was crooked in the same direction as hers but his eyes remained locked onto the vixen at his side. He wanted to know what the purpose of her coming up here was. By rights she should be back with her...friends, relaxing and preparing for the next day. But here she was, choosing to spend her time with him instead.

That's when he realized.

The cat had been trying to do the same thing, and he had run her off with his anger. Once more he felt an uncharacteristic pang of guilt that he had difficulty burying. It was not right for him to turn on his allies, no matter how annoying and seemingly useless they might be. It would be extraordinarily difficult and perhaps impossible, but he vowed to try and be less antagonistic in the future. After all, there was nothing to be gained from such actions.

But why, what hidden agendas did they hold? What was there purpose for seeking him out with the false pretenses of cordiality? There must be something they wished to gain, some ulterior motive to their attempts. He did not know what they could be, but he would find out. He needed to find out to set his mind at ease. These thoughts were unlike him and the sooner they were silenced the better.

An hour passed between them, not a word spoken or a glance shared, both staring up into the lonely silver light of the star lit sky. A strange sensation overcame him in this time. The beating of his heart had slowed to a nominal level and his constantly vigilant aura had been subdued. His breathing was paced far apart and he felt nothing. For once, in all his years, he felt absolutely nothing, no hate, no pain, no grief, not even guilt, just...nothing.

Was this what being at peace felt like? If so, he was not sure if he liked it.

Six noticed an odd flicker of movement to his side and turned to the vixen, finding that she had her arms folded tightly to her chest and tail wrapped securely around her. Her usually perky ears were pulled closely to her head. While still looking content, he could see her tremble every now and then when a particularly powerful gust of wind blew across the rampart.

The spartan checked his HUD for the temperature outside of his carefully monitored armor and saw that it was below freezing.

The vixen's garb was wholly inadequate for the low temperature and it was possible that she might contract hypothermia if she stayed out here with him any longer. The spartan was baffled to find that he felt a small almost unnoticed pang of unease in regards to her health, and a certain responsibility for it.

"You should go inside." Six felt the words slip out of his mouth on their own accord.

Taking a moment to register that he had spoken, the vixen looked up to him questioningly, her muzzle tilting to the side and a single ear popping up.

It was...peculiar.

"The weather is unsuitable for you. It would be best if you head inside and get some rest." He repeated in more detail, wondering why he was making such an effort in the first place. What did he care for her condition? What possible reason did he have to concern himself with her in any significant way?

She seemed to mull over his words before speaking. "And you...?"

"My armor protects me from the cold. Yours does not. I will be fine." Such was true. His MJOLNIR was rated to withstand vacuum temperatures and conditions, a chilly breeze was nothing compared to that.

"And rest...?" She added, a thoughtful depth in her jade eyes.

"I need little of that." He could function for days without sleep, weeks if absolutely necessary.

He waited for her to leave, but it seemed she was not done yet. Her features shifted into a myriad of undiscernible expressions before they finally settled on a single one.

"Why are you up here, Six?" It seemed that she wished to get to the point of why she came up here.

Six didn't know why, but finding out that she had an ulterior motive for coming other than concern for him was relieving and the spartan's answer was simple.

"To keep watch." There was a chance that the things in the forest might attempt to find a way inside and he wanted to make sure that he would be there to stop them if they did.

"There are plenty of others already doing that." She reasoned, poking a hole in his explanation.

True, the base already had a night watch. He had seen them up in the towers once the sun had set. No doubt they had a duty rotation as well, making his post up here wholly unnecessary. But he felt that only he could keep a truly adequate vigil.

"Do you not trust them?" She guessed.

Honestly?

No. He didn't. They were not spartans. They were susceptible to the same frailties as non-augmented humans. If he had learned anything in his career, it was that the only ones you could truly trust were yourself and your fellow spartans.

She took his silence for acceptance to her question and the vixen sighed in resignation.

"You know, Six. Eventually, you're going to have to trust us. I know you trust Fox, but you have to learn do the same for the rest of us. You took his offer so that means whether you accept it or not, we're your team now. You can't live like this forever. I don't know what you've been through or why you insist on being so distant. But I do know one thing." She declared firmly as she looked up at him, her jade green eyes unflinching.

Her sudden burst of resolve interested him.

"You need to change." Her eyes flashed briefly, full of force.

Such an order might have been cause for violence if he had not resolved to be more tolerant minutes ago.

Now...

He gave it far more thought then he would have days prior. Had he not come to the conclusion that he had to adapt? That he could not stay the same and hope to survive? This place was not like the one he had left. It had a different set of rules and principles that he remained oblivious too. There was some wisdom to her words, not that he wanted to hear them.

"What you ask is not easy for me." He replied slowly, having to fight to get himself to speak. To say that divulging anything to someone he considered an absolute stranger was difficult, was a ridiculously enormous understatement. "I am not used to...trusting others."

"Well everyone has to start somewhere." The vixen replied positively, probably pleasantly surprised that he had not outright denied her advice. This time her smile arrived in full force, and her bushy tail wagged with surprising vigor.

"Then I will...do what I can." That was as far as he was willing to commit for the foreseeable future. He would try to be less aggressive from now on. It would be a long and difficult road and one he did not want to travel. But there was a lot of things he had not wanted to do in the past that needed to be done. This would be no different.

"Right then, first step. You need to let the guards do their job. Come on let's get some rest." The vixen grabbed his thick forearm and began to tug him towards the stairs.

Not wanting to have her snap back and collide with him, Six chose to reluctantly follow after her. It was no easy decision, having to trust that the guards here would be sufficient. And it was far harder for him to resist prying the vixen's padded grip off his arm. Her touch made him openly uncomfortable. And that was saying something.

Yet, she had been one of the first to treat him somewhat kindly and even stand up to him and he decided to let this one instance go without retaliation.

Thankfully, she released her grip when they arrived at the door and he followed her inside, having to duck under the portal, grunting in irritation after his helmet's crest scraped against the doorway.

Being so tall was not always a good thing

Inside he was surprised to see rows of closed doors, each most likely a private room. To think that the cornerians cared enough for their soldiers to give each one their own reserved lodging was remarkable. Then again he supposed they could afford to whereas the UNSC could not.

From the looks of it, most if not all the rooms were already occupied, even the second and third floors were full up, despite the unfortunate loss of so many. He supposed that one of the buildings that had been demolished might have been another one of these barracks, thus the back up on rooms.

It was looking like her plan had been pointless in the end. There was nowhere for him to rest. There was only one spare room at the end of the hall on the third floor and that one was being taken by Miyu, the feline opening the door just as he and Krystal showed up.

The feline noticed both of them as she made to enter, the feline smiled at her friend but it quickly vanished upon seeing the spartan behind her.

"Heya Krystal..." She greeted her friend happily. All the spartan earned was a dismissive. "Six." He felt that he might have deserved that. The cat seemed curious to see them both together. "What are you doing in here?"

"Well the plan was to find somewhere to sleep, but it looks like the all the others rooms are full." Krystal explained with a sigh, her lips curling into an unfortunate grimace.

Miyu grinned. "Well that can easily be remedied. You can just bunk with me!" The feline gestured to the open door. "There's a spare bed under mine, you can use that." 

"Thanks, but what about Six?" The vixen asked with a troubled frown.

The spartan felt certain that the cat would gladly leave him out, but after a thoughtful gaze she nodded. "Well, Falco's already passed out and Fox is still in the HQ with Captain Siegfried. I'm sure he can fit in here with us if he doesn't mind being cramped of course."

He expected Krystal to be opposed to the idea, but she shrugged. "That could work.

No actually it couldn't.

There were more than a few reasons why he considered that bad news. Just the thought of being crammed up into a bedroom with two females filled him with trepidation. That was not even factoring the knowledge that they were aliens.

"No don't worry about me I'll be fine." He refused, perhaps just a little too fast and with an odd timidness that did not suit a hardened killer. The spartan took a hesitant step backwards. Perhaps he could just wake up Falco or find Fox and help him plan. Anything then what they were suggesting.

He watched in growing unease as the feline's lips slowly curled into a smug, knowing grin. "Are you, Six, the biggest baddest solider of them all, afraid of sleeping in a room with a bunch of girls?" She looked about ready to burst into laughter and Krystal was not far off, the vixen trembling as she made a poor attempt to keep her chuffs hidden.

The spartan scoffed. "Ridiculous..." He was not afraid of anything. He had engaged brute chieftains in hand-to-hand combat, fended off hordes of sangheili and their armies of zealous unggoy, survived countless battle with hunters. To think that he would be afraid of what she was suggesting was both preposterous and unfounded.

"Then why don't you come on in." Miyu gestured to the open door invitingly, still smirking.

Six hesitated, the gaze of both women burning into him. With a shake of his head he stepped forwards and confidently strode past the cat and into the bedroom, wondering why he was subjecting himself to such torture.

 

*****

 

This may have just been the worst decision he had made in his entire life. The bedroom was silent, except for the soft snores of the two women in their beds and the spartan idly tapping his finger against his thigh plate.

What had possessed him to do this? Taking his chances by sleeping in the jungle was a more appealing idea. Strangely enough, as he sat in the bedroom's darkness, Six thought of Jorge. The Spartan-II had been the most human of them all. And he could have used some of his easygoing nature right about now. It was just one of the many social skills that he was severely lacking in. Jorge had always known what to say, and if not for his immense size and fearsome MJOLNIR, he could have passed as any other regular human. And in that regards he and the big man were vastly different.

He wished that he had been able to spend more time with him, and the other members of Noble Team. He could have used some of Jorge's advice right about now. No doubt he would tell Six to buck up and be normal. He and Jorge had always gotten into small scraps about this in-between battles, telling him he needed to change if he wanted to be able to live a normal life once the war was over. As if it ever would. Despite their disagreements, Six had always admired the Spartan-II's faith in victory, even when he himself could not see it.

It had been a short month together, but he still found that he missed them occasionally, even Emile. They had never really seen eye to eye, but he had still been a good friend, all the way until the end. The Kukri on his arm was his and Six still remembered what Emile told him right before he died.

"Don't let the old girl get rusty."

 

Emile always did have an unhealthy fondness for that blade. Six wished he could have heard what he would have thought about all of this. He imagined his thoughts would be quite interesting.

Kat had been different. Six didn't really talk to her much. She had been a good spartan, but not one for idle words, much like his self in that regard. It was a shame how she died, no honor in that. He just hoped she was at peace.

Carter had been an interesting commander, one of the few he had grown to respect. Much like Fox in fact. Both were levelheaded, clever, resourceful, and dedicated to the mission and their team. At least that's what he had observed from the vulpine so far. He hoped that would not change. That's all about he was clinging to at the moment.

Six never figured out what happened to Jun. last he heard the Asiatic spartan was evacuating Doctor Halsey. He didn't care much for what happened to the good doctor. He just hoped that Jun made it through that mess. If he did, then all the better for him. Maybe he might live through the war and see that peace Jorge was so fond of mentioning.

Then there was the war. Was it still going? Had humanity been defeated? Or had they managed to pull a miracle out of the hat? He hoped it was the latter. More likely, the war was still going, wherever they were.

The main thing running through the spartan's head, was what was going to happen to him. He had never given much thought to the future. But now, after all of this, he found that it frequented his mind quite often.

What was he going to do with his life? Could he even acclimatize to a life outside of wartime? Humans were determined, masters of adapting to harsh and unforgiving circumstances. But he was a spartan. He would have to adjust to the exact opposite. He thrived off of conflict and was gratified in the fires of war. To him, a life without war sounded like too much. He felt that he was too far gone to change. At least for now there was a war to fight. He could take solace in that fact.

His mind wandered to the cornerians... He had first considered them far different from humans in more than their looks. But after these few days he came to realize something.

They weren't different, he was.

They acted like any other regular human he had met before, and that was it, regular. He was not regular. Nothing had really changed in the end. It was the same thing slanted a different way. There was always a bad side and a good side, as opposite as the colors black and white. He rarely ever saw the grey.

Six watched as the two women slept, they looked peaceful, unmindful of the nightmares of war. Their muzzles were unmarred by the ever present gauntness that years of unrelenting war left you with. No doubt they had pleasant dreams, falling back to friends and family in their slumber. He could not even find consolation in his dreams, for he had none. When he did sleep, it was just a wall of oppressive blackness that consumed him till he woke.

Six didn't sleep much.

He wondered what it would be like, to sleep just because you could, to curl up in bed, perhaps even with someone else to share it. He wouldn't know, it was so far off in the realm of possibility for him that even the thought was absurd and abhorrent, but still one that gnawed on him all the same.

They could afford peaceful sleep. Six could not. He was destroyed by the spartan program, any remnants of normality were far too fragmented and dispersed across the wasteland of his waking mind. It was much like the battlefields he had waged war across the years, desolated ruins of a once ordinary place. 

Sometimes he forgot that he had ever been normal. Once before he had a family, a home, even friends if he could remember correctly. It seemed like all of that belonged to a different person. And that was true, whoever he had been before the program was gone, dead. Now he was Six, no longer Noble.

Regret, loss, rage, grief, these were his true companions. They had followed him dutifully throughout his life, always with him...always, every waking moment, every time he slept, they never abandoned him.

Only once had he been truly alone, truly as himself as he could ever hope to be. And that had been on the ramparts, with that vixen, Krystal. At that moment he had only his own thoughts in his head, truly his own person.

It was not lost on him that she had been there when it happened. He just wondered what it signified.

He looked up to them again and was surprised to see the vixen's jade eyes glowing in the darkness of the bedroom, much like a predator in the night.

His eyesight was perhaps superior to her own, and he could clearly make out the vixen sitting up from her bed on the ground, scant feet away from his rest against the wall. The entire situation struck him as odd. If anyone had told him he would be sitting on the floor of an alien barracks in the middle of the night, across from two women more animal than anything else, he would have certainly figured they were absolutely insane. But now, perhaps he was the crazy one. At least then it would make sense.

"Are you still awake?" She whispered quietly, having seen him move with her keen vision.

"Yes..." He replied just as softly. His wandering mind had unlocked many of the barriers he hid himself behind. And for a brief while, he was not the cynical spartan he always was.

"Something on your mind?" She asked curiously as she scooted closer, her blanket still draped across her slender frame. A different man might have noticed that most of her clothing had been removed, revealing more fur than was most likely proper, but he was far too interested in why she moved closer to him.

"Several somethings." Six rumbled with a quiet chuckle. He still found this whole thing to be immensely amusing, at least for the moment. "I have never been so lost." His chuckle faded as a grimace surfaced on his hidden visage, his good humor evaporating as quickly as it had manifested.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked lowly. "Sometimes it helps to have someone listen." Krystal moved even closer, until she sat against the wall beside him, snugly wrapped up in her blanket until all that could be seen was her creamy furred neck and earnest expression. He was surprised to have a sudden and attentive listener.

"I have never...talked, about things before." The spartan explained uncertainly. He did not know why she was doing this, but at the moment he had nothing else to really do and he was feeling more vulnerable than had ever before in his life.

Is this what Jorge had meant when he had told him to be more human? Was being weak the answer?

"That's alright, just start whenever you feel comfortable and soon the words will just poor out." She seemed to be speaking from personal experience.

Six decided to hell with it, not much else could go wrong anymore. The spartan tried to find somewhere to start but it was difficult. This all seemed highly unorthodox. He supposed it would be best to just start from the beginning.

"When I was five..."


	9. Bonds

Chapter 8: Bonds

 

Six told Krystal pretty much everything he remembered about the spartan program, the ruthless conditioning and rigorous drills he and the others had to endure, day in and day out for years. It had been no casual stroll through the park, aimed with the goal in mind of creating a generation of supersoldiers trained to obey without question, fulfill any order, no matter how dubious. ONI had seen how successful the progenitor program had been after the failure of the ORION initiative and the creation of the Spartan-IIs. And they wanted to harness that same triumph for themselves, with or without Halsey's support.

Six still vividly remembered the day when he and the other four-hundred and seventeen candidates had been dumped off at Camp Currahee on Onyx, all ranging from four to six years old, the jumble of frightened children gazing at the massive compound of mortar and steel. Soon after, they had been introduced to their instructors, giant men in freshly pressed uniforms and ever present scowls. There had been many trainers at the encampment, but only a couple stuck out in his mind for varying reasons, Kurt, Mendez, and Ackerson.

Ackerson had cared little on whether they lived or died and it was under his watch that so many of them had perished in the dangerous training exercises. Kurt and Mendez had been the most effective, while still harsh, critical, and more than a little violent. It was from them that Six had learned how to be a survivor and he could contribute his successful career to their advice and leadership. He did not know whether those two butted head with Ackerson and his overly cruel methods, but he did know that it was on their orders that he had been removed and selected for additional education in the art of war.

Kurt had been an interesting man, a spartan-II no less, one of the originals and some said the best. Despite this, he had been one of the most relaxed and outgoing people Six ever had the chance to meet. That did not mean he had been soft on them, the sparring ring could attest to that much. But it had come to a surprise when he had learned who exactly Kurt was. Not once had he ever acted like Six expected a spartan to act, he was no stern and taciturn man, but rather looked out for the S-III candidates, almost like a brother or fatherly figure. It had warped his interpretation of what a spartan could be, although he had not quite caught onto Kurt's easygoing ways as some of the others had.

What Six had learned from him, was that you did not need to be a unfeeling soldier in order to be a good spartan, you just had to follow you heart. The problem was, that's not something Six felt like he could do. His influence was not enough to balance that of Ackerson, who had beaten into him that he was solely an asset of humanity, having forfeited any rights he had the moment he touched the surface of Onyx.

But of everything he had endured at Camp Currahee, what he truly loathed to remember was the augmentation procedure he had undergone with grim aversion, nerves like fire, his bones like glass, and his skin as thin as paper. Every waking moment had been agonizing. He did not remember how long it lasted, just the agony it left him with. It had hurt more than losing his family and home, and he imagined the other kids had felt the same way.

Six could not remember if he had made friends with any of the other recruits prior to his removal, but he doubted it. Even back then he had been hesitant to speak and preferred his solitude. Although he had looked up his company some years later, and discovered that most of them had been killed in Operation: TORPEDO. He didn't know if it was luck that he had been spared their fate. He tended to not put much stock in superstition. They were just victims of circumstance, like he had been.

But the spartan did know that the only reason he lived was because of Kurt and Mendez. He never quite understood why they saved him and a few of the others. But he was able to pick up and piece together some information when he could, slicing through ONI databanks on occasion. If they had ever discovered his actions they might have discharged, or the more likely choice, terminated him. But he felt that he needed to know why he was more important than the others. And in the classified electronic records, he found several references to the purity of his genetic stock.

It had sickened him to uncover that they might have saved him purely on the sanctity of his DNA. But he supposed that life was not exactly fair, and the others had just lost the galactic coin toss. All that mattered to him in the end was that he had survived.

After his further dedicated preparation by ONI, they had set him loose upon the galaxy, roaming across the embattled zones and completing clandestine operations for the office, ranging from assassinations, demolitions of critical objectives that could not be afforded to fall into alien hands, and VIP extraction, which could often become a kill order if necessary. Better that they be dead then give any information to the Covenant. He had been forced to do that more than a few times, and not once had he hesitated. He knew how high the stakes were. There could be no room for doubt or empathy. He expected to be treated the same way if he had been captured.

Six decided to leave that particular piece and ones like it from his story. He didn't want her to know of the things he had done, for whatever reason.

He leaned away from his ONI designated assignments and focused more on the war itself. The spartan felt a little better speaking about that. His missions then had been more focused on saving lives rather than taking them.

Even with that he did not go into too much detail. Fighting the Covenant left one with little good to speak off. More often they were stories without happy endings. Sure, there was the occasional victory and a colony was saved. But usually word was passed on how a handful of civilians had hitched aboard the retreating remnants of a UNSC fleet, watching as their home was glassed into oblivion.

Once it came to the battle of Reach, his words failed him. Six could not find it in him to continue, the mental scars too recent, the battles, too vivid. To him, it had been less than a week since he walked the world's ruined surface, watched his team die. Maybe in time he could come to terms with what he had been through on Reach.

But now, at this moment, he could feel his sincerity coming to a close. It was almost a physical perception, as if a gate inside his mind was drawing inexhaustibly shut, sealing away his emotions behind that familiar and welcomed spartan façade he had grown so used to. He could feel himself compartmentalizing, sealing his fragile human demeanor under the inherent indoctrination he knew so well.

It was a strange sensation, feeling oneself become numb, knowing that soon you would lose that concept that made you human once more as it faded away. Fear, he felt it as his humanity began to slip. He did not want to be a heartless machine, but it was what he knew to be so well. And he clung to any shred of his human self he could grasp as it departed, managing to only tear a few precious ragged fragments away from his other identity.

Once, after the events of his mission on a planetoid called Volaris, he had been ordered to visit an ONI shrink. He had answered the invasive doctor's questions with great reluctance as the man tore him into allegorical pieces with his knifed edged words. In the end, the spartan had cut the interview short before he could no longer restrain himself from strangling the psychiatrist.

Shortly after the meeting, he had checked the dossier they had compiled on him, and discovered something significant. The doctor had claimed that he suffered from something similar to a split personality disorder, that he had two different people struggling to coexist in his battered frame. There was the human, the man that clung to what was left of his humanity after having been forced to endure the traumatic events that he did, and the spartan, the ruthless and coldblooded entity that had manifested itself in order to protect its host body and fragile inner core.

Six wanted to dismiss the doctor's claims as fraudulent and implausible, but he had been the same one to conduct research on the spartan-II candidates as they grew up in the program.

Now he was not so certain the doctor had been a fool.

Six crushed these thoughts with malice. These belonged to a weaker man, not Spartan-B312. He was better than this, stronger, than this. He would withstand such frailty as he always did. Enough of these pointless recollections, they had no place here or anywhere else.

He pulled himself away from his distant reverie and brought himself back to reality, the silhouette of the dark barracks room he sat in swirling back into piercing focus.

The feline still slept on her bed and Krystal still sat beside him, neither aware of the sudden shift in his embattled thoughts.

Six glanced down at the vixen that sat next to him, and felt that familiar unease and mistrust that he had upon first meeting. But it did not linger for long. A small part of him remembered their conversation not so long ago and what he had promised her. He found that even with his resurgence in his old self, he could not completely disregard what he had sworn.

They were his team now. Even if he did not completely trust or even like them he would not forget that much. And maybe, just maybe, he could prevent what happened to Noble from repeating itself. It had not been easy for him to adapt to operating with a team, and that had been with spartans who actually understood him. Starfox was not even human. It would take quite some doing to accept them. 

Six signaled that he was done speaking with a quick word and tilt of his head, half expecting her to lean away in revulsion. He was curious as to what she would think about all of this. Was he now even more of a monster in her eyes? He imagined so. He must sound like quite the horrific creature to her.

 

*****

 

Krystal listened to Six's story with shock and horror in equal measures. What kind of life was that to live? What kind of person did it take to come out of all that like he had?

What's more, how could anyone do that to children?

She was horrified to discover that he had been forced to be a soldier at such a young age. The knowledge that they had taken kids and subjected them to such harsh and merciless conditions made her sick. To take it a step further, they had experimented on them, altering their bodies to make them even more efficient killing machines.

The vixen could not imagine what it would be like to have your childhood stripped away from you, replaced by the rigorous and uncaring edifice of war, to have your body unwillingly molded to better fit the severe requirements others demanded of you.

Now she understood why he was such an aggressive and uncompromising individual. It was what he had been forced to be, all he knew how to be. And she was thankful that he had not lost his self-control and let his more violent side take over with her or the others. Krystal could only wonder what it took for him to keep his emotions bottled up. It couldn't possibly be healthy to keep that raging firestorm sealed away.

As terrible as it was to admit, she admired his resilience. She had lost much, but he had lost more. She could still look back fondly on her remembrances of Cerinia and her family. She always had those memories to fall back on during her rough patches.

Six did not have that luxury. His only memories were that of war and its unpleasant byproducts.

She gazed up into his mask, wondering what he was thinking, what he looked like under that impervious veneer of shining silver. What surprised her more was how young he must be. From his story he could be her age, and yet his voice had made her think he was a craggy old veteran. It was a shock to discover that he was not nearly as old as that.

Compassion welled up insider her, and she felt the overwhelming urges to comfort the wounded warrior, both in body and mind. She thought back to every moment she had interacted with him, and she felt guilt. She had judged him at face value, not bothering to learn why he acted the way he did. Now she could see the glaring motives for his crude ways.

From the way he represented himself, it was almost as if he expected everyone he met to be his enemy, or be disgusted by him. And she had played into that role quite effectively.

It was amazing that she was only able to feel so much of his emotions with her abilities. It would be all but flooding from anyone else's auras in an overwhelming tidal wave of hurt. But with him there were the barest traces of his state of mind, and it was still enough to affect her.

Even now she felt an uncharacteristic mellow and pensiveness that was unlike her.

"I'm sorry." She whispered quietly, feeling tears threating to break free from her emerald eyes.

"What?" The spartan's helmet rearing backwards, genuinely confused.

"I'm sorry for everything, for what you lost, for what they turned you into. And...I'm sorry for how I treated you." Krysta wanted him to know that she was regretful. The vixen felt that she needed to make it up to him, even if most of it was not her fault.

Six did not answer her immediately, the soldier tilting his head to the side, like a curious dog. When he did at last respond, it was slow and measured, as if he had put a great deal of thought into his reply. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I would have reacted the same way. And as to what they did to me. It is foolish to offer an admission of guilt for the sins of others. I will live with what they have done, you should not."

 

Krystal could see what he meant, but she could not shake this bizarre feeling of guilt that she knew was not her own. She suspected it was some sort of psychic backdraft. Things like this happened on occasion, but not on the scale she felt at that moment.

"At least let us start anew, clear the slate." She hoped to be able to change her relation with him. She wanted to be his friend, felt that she needed to. The vixen came up with an idea, it was silly, but she hoped that just might make it work.

"Hi, my name is Krystal." She greeted him with a goofy smile and a giggle as she removed her paw from underneath her blanket and held it out.

The spartan didn't move for a few moments, but when he did the man chuckled softly and shook her paw, thinking on the first one he had shaken since coming here. It was odd, but he felt warmth transfer from her paw into his hand, even though there was no logical way for her body heat to pass through the thick insulated glove.

"Hello Krystal, my name is Six." He found all of this ridiculous and her little handshake more than a little irrational, and yet...it was oddly charming in its own senseless way. "Now, I suggest you get some sleep. I suspect tomorrow will be quite a day." He was certain that Fox would have some sort of plan for dealing with this threat. Whatever it was, he had a feeling he would be at the forefront.

And that suited him just fine.

Six released her paw, feeling that peculiar warmth fade, replaced with the same emptiness he always knew.

"Are you going to sleep too?" She asked with a worried look. The vixen had felt his consciousness go dark only a few times since she met him and she was concerned that he did not sleep as much as he should.

Six was startled by her continuous monitoring of his wellbeing. But, he supposed that he would be safe enough to take a couple of hours to catch up on his slumber. Just the thought of being able to close his eyes for a bit made him drowsy. It was weird though, he had never really felt the need to truly sleep, not since Currahee.

"I suppose I could...for a little while at least."

 

The vixen beamed up at him and wrapped herself tighter in her blanket before leaning against his shoulderplate.

That was....unexpected.

Her action made his mind splutter to a halt, his thought processes temporarily disabled as he made a vain attempt to compute what she was doing.

"Good..." Krystal murmured quietly as she made herself more comfortable, her tail curling and gently laying itself on his left thigh, occasionally thumping against the cerulean plate with a soft patter.

Six was frozen, almost painfully so, not able to move a muscle as the vixen lounged against him. The experience was wholly new and completely irregular and he was unable to figure out how to properly respond. 

Eventually, he picked up her faint snoring joining that of the feline and knew she would not be moving in the foreseeable future.

'...Shit.'

 

 

*****

 

Shortly after daybreak, the team gathered inside the command center, Fox summoning them with the assertion that he had come up with a foolproof plan. And as Miyu studied the holo table between her and the vulpine, she figured one thing.

It wasn't much of a plan. In fact, it wasn't a plan at all. If anything it held the barest traces of a real plan, more a half-assed concept than anything else.

Fox wanted her dead.

"So...let me get this straight." The feline began with a doubtful crease ornamenting her muzzle, her amber eyes taking in the holographic map of the jungle with barely constrained skepticism. "You want me...and Six...to slog back through the jungle, where an uncertain number of those reptilian bastards are lurking I might add, all the way to where we parked the shuttle? Then grab said shuttle, and fly it back here?"

Fox grinned and dipped his muzzle in confirmation, apparently oblivious to how foolish it sounded.

"Yep that's it."

"You're shitting me, right?"

"Not at all."

"This is your lauded plan? The one you took all night planning?"

"Correct." Fox nodded once more.

Yeah, he wanted her dead.

Miyu glanced to Six, hoping that he would say something to counter Fox's seemingly insane proposal. She knew his word carried a great deal of weight, even though he had not been on the team for long. But her hopes were dashed as the hulking warrior remained silent.

'Bastard...'

 

As if that wasn't enough, she still remembered quite clearly what she had seen when she woke up.

He and Krystal had been snuggling...snuggling!

Sure, from his posture he didn't look to be enjoying it, even in slumber, but that was beside the point. The feline was furious either way. She had been the one to try and befriend him first, way before Krystal tried to get her paws sunk into him. And all she had earned for her efforts was a scathing rebuke.

Then here comes little miss perfect with her glamorous blue fur and exotic accent, seemingly wooing him over with a few choice words.

It just wasn't fair!

Miyu glanced at the vixen herself and saw her staring at the spartan with a faint almost unnoticeable smile.

Jealousy burned hotly in her veins. What did Krystal have that she didn't? To make matters worse, now she had to go out into the deadly jungle with the guy that apparently hated her guts just because she had tried to be nice to him. So not only would she have to withstand his hidden glaring, but she would also have to contend with the super lethal creatures of Andross' machinations.

"So, Miyu...are you up for a little jungle dalliance?" Fox enquired, interrupting her inner quandary.

The cat chuckled wildly, amused by her own unfortunate circumstances.

"Sure why the hell not? I'm game."

 

*****

 

The gates closed with an ominous clang, sealing them away from the security of the base's high walls and bristling defenses, leaving only the menacing jungle ahead of them.

Six regarded the fuming cat to his left, her tail thrashing in the air as she armed herself with one of the many handguns attached to the tactical webbing on her vest. It was quite clear to him that she was not completely onboard with Fox's plan. And he must admit he was not so enthused either. He had thought that the vulpine would have come up with a smarter solution to their problems. But he did not want to undermine his commander's position by showing any doubt, so he had let it stay.

There was a point to the vulpine's madness however. Fay could fix the array, but she needed the supplies from the shuttle to carry it out. And the soldiers in the infirmary needed the first aid material it held as well if they were to hold on long enough for the reinforcements to arrive. He and the feline were the fastest and quietest members of the team, so they would have a better chance of reaching the ship without being detected and staying ahead of the bioweapons if they were.

He would have suggested going it alone, but they needed someone to pilot the ship and he had no experience with alien craft. He could have probably figured out how to fly it without too much difficulty. But he didn't like the odds of trying to get it airborne before those things interfered.

"All right, let's get this suicide mission over with." Miyu grumbled, taking the lead into the forest.

Six nodded and followed behind her, feeling a strange air of guilt as he did.

The spartan had not forgotten his earlier confrontation with the feline. In fact it played itself quite frequently in his head as they traveled through the jungle. Its silent atmosphere gave one a lot of time to reflect.

He knew he had been at fault, even if he did not like to believe that. He had never been in a position like this before. His previous team had never fought over anything, they were professionals after all. But here, he had to remember that these aliens were not the same. And what's more, he was not the same either. Before all of this he would have never exploded as he had with Miyu. Six was a master of his emotions, keeping them firmly locked away at all times. But he had slipped, let them loose from their prison. And because of that he had treated one of his team members wrongfully.

It was disquieting because he never made mistakes.

But then, he never did a lot of things before coming here.

Six watched as Miyu tramped ahead, muttering quietly to herself as she meandered through the low hanging vegetation with a grimness to her step. He didn't care to listen to what she was saying. In all probability they were not very nice thoughts.

He needed to clear the air between them, if for no other reason than to ensure their fighting effectiveness remained unimpeded. The problem was he had no idea in hell how to go about doing that. He could not stress enough that he was not a very sociable man. Apologizing for a personal fault was something new entirely. He wanted to speak, to explain himself, but he could not find the strength to break his hesitancy, his reclusive anxiety too powerful.

Hours passed in their jungle walk without a word said between them, the silent spartan following dutifully after the feline.

Miyu was surprised that he had remained so quiet. She expected him to have at least said something to her, anything at all, even if it was words of disapproval. She was actually unnerved by his continued silence. She had thought she would be fine with him staying mute, but compared to the already quiet jungle, it was only more unpleasant.

Enough.

"Okay...I need a break." She announced loudly. Six may have been a supersoldier, but she was still just a regular cat. And cats needed their rest. This jungle was hell to walk through. She had been to some pretty unpalatable places in her time, but this one had to rank amongst her top five least most inviting locations. The air was hot, oppressive, and stifling. The ground was an endless trail of spongy decomposing plant matter that clung to one's boots with frustrating ease and made it a pain in the ass to walk through. And the humidity made it all but impossible to stay dry and she knew she was going to get a rash before this was all said and done.

Once more she found herself cursing Fox for sending her on this crazy mission. She was an interceptor pilot, keyword being pilot. She didn't sign up to do grunt work.

'This is what I get for being nice.'

 

Miyu sighed and found a fallen tree to sit on. As she sat on the damp bark she looked up to Six, watching as the spartan noiselessly found a place to rest as well, leaning against a thickly rounded sapling, the unfortunate flora creaking miserably under his weight.

'Probably doesn't even need to rest.' She mused with a soft chuckle. At the moment the lynx was jealous of his armor, no doubt it had an artificially monitored environment so he didn't have to deal with this damned jungle.

She continued to observe the spartan as he tinkered with his odd rifle. The black alloyed weapon was about as alien as she expected. From a quick study she determined that the magazine for the firearm was placed towards the rear, integrated into the stock, and the sight on top looked to be detachable and the weapon overall seemed to be heavily customizable.

It was exotic and deadly, just like its owner, and matched him perfectly. Just like Six's armor, it was bulky and covered in angular edges, none of the smooth shapes she was used to seeing in their own gear. His armor was unusual. She would not have expected one such as he, coarse and withdrawn, to have such a colorful pattern. The runes were interesting though, and reminded her of Krystal's tattoos. She had asked the vixen about them before, and had learned that they were an honor that only members of the royal family could bear. And each had a personal meaning for her.

Miyu wondered if the same held true for Six. Indeed they were quite mesmerizing and pleasant to look at. She was able to see more than before since he had finally decided to clean the blood from his suit.

The lynx could also see the small fang shaped punctures in the black undersuit on his right shoulder. She had to admit, he was one tough son of a bitch to be able to shrug of something like that. She had never been bit before, but she imagined it was a painful experience. He had lost a lot of blood from what she saw and he had acted as if the wound did not exist.

As her amber eyes wandered about his hulking frame, she was once more reminded of his herculean physique. There must not have been an ounce of wasted fat on his body, a being of densely sculpted muscle. His armored chest was broad and his limbs were so thick she doubted she could wrap a paw around his forearm, even if he took his armor off. His suit made it quite easy to see how he might look underneath it and stirred certain passions and desires in the feline.

It was brazenly apparent that he took great care of his body, it being the epithet of physical fitness.

Miyu suddenly found her gaze locked onto a visage of silver and realized that he had noticed her hungry gaze. The cat flushed and her fur darkened in mortification as she turned away and tried to look anywhere but at the spartan.

"Lynx...."

 

Miyu shivered as she heard him growl her name, his voice so rough that whether he intended to or not was unknown and she reluctantly turned to meet his impassive scrutiny.

"Y-Yeah Six...." She asked with a slight gulp, praying that he was not going to bring up what he must have seen.

"I...must speak with you...candidly if I may."

"Uh...yeah of course. What is it, Six?" She wondered, puzzled by his timidness. She found that she could not be angry at him when he spoke like that. He sounded to her ears like a lost child, a strange adjective to assign to the hulking warrior.

The spartan nodded and she heard him take a deep breath.

"I feel the need to apologize for my actions yesterday. I was...stressed, and it was unfair for me to bring that on you. And for that...I-I'm sorry." He choked out with some noticeable difficulty. His attention soon dropped away from her and the spartan studied his weapon with intense dedication.

Miyu looked onto him with a faintly growing smile, relieved and surprised to hear his announcement. The feline had not been expecting Six to apologize. She didn't know what to feel, now knowing that he must have been agonizing over his actions for so long that he needed to fess up. Despite his rough outward demeanor or perhaps because of it, she found his apology and actions...endearing. Noticing that she had not yet verbally recognized his confession, she responded.

"That's alright Six, just try and keep it somewhat....softer, for future advice." He had been quite terrifying when he exploded on her, and it had taken a lot of the feline's cool not to lose it. It was a one hell of an experience, being roared at by a seven foot killing machine.

"Don't worry, it will not happen again." Six assured her. He knew he had to watch himself with them. They were not as tough as his brothers and sisters. And he had to keep himself in check, because they could be broken. But he had mercilessly trained to regulate his strength, so he was not overly concerned about that.

'Well then I forgive you Six." She decided, getting up as she spoke. Miyu suddenly felt a sudden influx of energy, enough to keep going until they found the shuttle and got back to the base. Then, she would have a few words with Fox about his miraculous "plans".

"Let's go. The shuttle's not going to fly itself..." Miyu paused, frowning. "Wait a minute, why doesn't it do that already? Damn it Slippy! That would have been awesome!" Next time she had the chance, she would suggest that he install an autopilot system into it that way they wouldn't have to do something like this again.

With a hidden grin, Six shouldered his rifle and followed after the reinvigorated feline, surprised to find that he did not feel as uncomfortable as he thought he would have.

Mayhaps he judged them too quickly.

 

*****

 

Waiting.

Krystal hated waiting, leaving everything in the paws of someone else. There was nothing she or the others could do until Six and Miyu came back. It was up to them to bring the shuttle and its vital supplies back to the base. And therein lay the root of the problem, Miyu and Six.

The vixen felt as if she had finally managed to connect with the spartan, chiseled a niche into his stony heart. And for whatever reason she felt that was now threatened with him and her friend going on their little jungle adventure by themselves. It was a childish assumption, but knowing that did not make her concern fade. 

Krystal fondly looked back on the previous night, even if she had developed a painful crick in her neck from resting on his shoulder. It was not the best of pillows, the steel being hard and unyielding, but she had been perfectly fine with it. Waking up had also been a bonus, she recalled the spartan's awkward awakening with amusement. It had been made clear to her at that moment that Six had little experience with the fairer sex and it had been quite the laugh to see him so far out of his element.

She had never seen a man leave in such a rush, all but running out of the barracks room without a word.

As amusing as that had been, she felt somewhat slighted. Krystal had been hoping to spend a little more time with him, have a few more of her questions answered. But, she supposed that it he would not completely open up in a single day. But what he did tell her gave the vixen much food for thought. She decided to not tell anything she had learned to Fox or the others. Six had confided in her, and she did not want to break that trust. Besides, she wasn't sure she would be able to repeat what she had learned without a few tears. Just the thought of what he had gone through was almost enough to upset her. It was still hard for her to digest what he told her. It all seemed like some horror story, not something based in reality.

She looked to her friends as they loitered around the command center. Fay had joined them, there being nothing else she could do until she received the equipment she needed. Falco and Fox were speaking with the captain. Krystal felt sorry for the poor canine. He had to deal with a bad situation, and she imagined he would not be the same dog he had been before this. At least it would soon be all over, once Miyu and Six came back with the shuttle, they could fix the array and help the wounded till reinforcements arrived. That was of course, if Pepper could spare them. She was reminded that this was not the only front for the war. Other planets were in danger as well.

Unfortunately, in all likelihood there would be no vacation for some time. They could not leave while the war still continued. Her thoughts invariably went back to Six. He had never gone on a vacation. His life had been one of constant conflict, and she felt wrong for fussing over the fact she would lose out on a chance to relax, it made her feel petty. And she did, compared to what the spartan had been through. Relaxing sounded like a selfish indulgence.

In fact, at the moment she was feeling pretty terrible. While she lounged around in the air conditioned command center, Six and Miyu were hiking through the unforgiving jungle, possibly being hunted by those damn creatures that caused so much pain and suffering.

As she sat around and brooded, she decided to listen in on Fox, Falco, and the captain's conversation, hoping it would be a better use of her time. At the moment it seemed like Falco was going off on one of his random tangents.

'So...what are we going to call these damn things anyways. Bioweapon is getting kind of repetitive and annoying. I mean really, there's gotta be a better word for them."

"The hell if I know." Fox replied with a shrug. "I'm not exactly an authoritative source on naming artificial creatures. But maybe...Deathclaws?" The vulpine offered hesitantly.

Falco scoffed and rolled his eyes critically. "What the hell kind of name is that, Deathclaw? What does that even mean?"

"I don't know." Fox muttered sullenly, offended that the avian had not adhered to his suggestion. "I just thought it was a cool name."

"No." The avian mused, rubbing his beak with a finger and thumb." You need something with pizazz, something with a certain ring to it, something that would fit them, something like...Razorclaw."

"......"

"What?"

"Really how's that any different from Deathclaw? You just changed the first half of the name!" Fox demanded, aiming a clawed finger accusingly.

"Don't be ridiculous." Falco derided. "They're not remotely the same."

"Actually they kind of are." Fay chimed in with a raised paw from her seat next to Krystal.

"When did you get in this conversation?" Falco questioned with a huff, whipping to face her with a sharpened glare.

"When you started acting like a dumbass." The snowy canine rejoined speedily. "What's the point of naming the stupid things if we're just going to be killing them anyways?"

"What about Chimera?" Captain Siegfried suggested, just wanting their bickering to end.

"That sounds better." Krystal agreed.

She had listened to Fox and Falco, and figured that the captain's suggestion had more merit. And the argument was crazy to begin with and should have never happened in the first place.

"Yeah I suppose it does." Fox acquiesced with a sigh.

Falco looked dissatisfied that his idea had not taken, but majority vote won out in the end.

"Now, with that out of the way, how about we do something a little more productive and check on Miyu and Six's progress." Fay offered, the young female dog being the voice of reason as she usually was.

"That is a far better use of our time." The captain approved with a satisfied nod.

Fox acknowledged this by pulling his bracer up, activating the short wave radio and lowering his muzzle to speak into the receiver.

"Hey Six, give us a status update. How close are you guys?"

The response from the spartan did not come quickly, and when it did it was heavily distorted by static, the signal having a difficult time of slicing through the planet's natural interference.

"Come.....ain Mccloud...much.....ference...we're......thirty min......transport, but...fierce.....tance."

"What was that Six? I can't hear you, the interference is too heavy." Fox spoke into the device louder, as if that would help the signal carry through.

"Almost.....uttle....multiple....tacts closing in....pursuit......advisable." The sharp report of the spartan's weapon managed to pierce the veil of static.

"What was that? Are you under attack?" Fox anxiously yelled into the machine on his wrist.

"......weapons.....least fifteen....jured.....ical assistance....standby."

 

The rest of whatever Six was going to say was garbled in the sudden surge of white noise.

Fox let a bitter curse slip from his muzzle but there was nothing else he could do. There was no way he could send anyone else out to help them and he wasn't even sure what was going on.

Suddenly his plan didn't look so good.

From the other's looks, they were just as worried as he was.

 

*****

 

The spartan's rifle barked continuously as he fired the weapon singlehandedly, his other gauntlet weighed down by Miyu as he cradled the wounded feline close to his chest. But his accuracy remained unaffected as the bullets efficiently scythed down the wave of reptilians racing towards them.

"Can you hear me Mccloud?" Six repeated as he brought his boot up and knocked back one of the creatures that had gotten too close.

As its ribs fractured and carved into its lungs, the spartan received no reply. With a scowl he forced its corpse away and resumed his swift backwards pace.

"You know, I always wanted to be carried by a handsomely heroic knight. But this isn't quite how I imagined it."

Six glanced at the delirious feline clinging for life to his chest, a deep red stain darkening her flight suit's vest, and harshly reprimanded himself for his lowered guard. He should have noticed the monster before it pounced, but their unnatural camouflage ability caught him by surprise once more. Still, the lynx was lucky to be alive. If he didn't have superhuman reflexes she wouldn't be breathing presently.

To make it worse, soon after the saurians had come out of the woodwork, probably having set up an ambush for them. They were smarter than he gave them credit.

Six had only been able to get a quick look at her injury before he had snatched her up and started to fight backwards, but it did not look good. The creature's razor sharp talon had dug deep into her side, cleaving through the thinly armored vest.

But what concerned him more than her wound, was the sudden eruption of his fury. He had been enraged, going berserk and thoroughly eradicating the one that had wounded her. Six had never felt so outraged and its blood still coated his gauntlets and upper forearms.

The spartan had not needed a weapon.

Why had he reacted the way he did for some alien? She may have been his team member, but the anger he had felt was...surreal, a boiling rage unlike anything he had experienced before. It was almost...satisfying, pulverizing the reptilian under his potent fists.

Usually he tried to keep his core emotions out of combat, but that time he had felt so...righteous. It felt good to fight, better than usual. He was having a hard time trying to describe the feeling, and it didn't help that these things were still trying to kill him and his injured companion.

"Try not to speak, you need to conserve your strength." The advice may have been construed as concern, but his order was more aimed so that he could better focus on keeping them alive.

Six heard the DMR empty with a dry click and released the spent magazine, grabbing another to replace it. The process took longer with his other arm constrained by the lynx, but still only consuming a few seconds. Shortly the gun was loaded and he resumed his grueling pace, firing the rifle as he maneuvered backwards through the jungle.

Thankfully, they were close to the shuttle when she had been attacked, and it would not take long for him to get there he remembered the area around them and could find it, even turned around as he was at the moment. The only difficulty he had was keeping her safe.

The creatures soon realized that he was not easy to take down, so they had decided to go for the weaker prey in his arms. So he was forced to intercept their attacks, often with his own body. But his armor was thick and encompassed most of his frame so the majority of their talon strikes did no damage. Their relentless attacks had denied his shields the chance to fully recharge, and so more often than not their talons hit steel rather than the curtain of energized particles. The barrier was already taxed without the continuous attacks, he having boosted its range to envelope her as well. It had never been intended to be used in such a way, but over the years he worked with his armor, he had modified it extensively.

Miyu groaned and he felt her arms tighten around his chest.

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one bleeding like a sieve."

Six sighed quietly and twisted his body, a clawed hand sparking of his shoulderplate as he took another blow meant for the cat. As it recoiled from the jarring strike, he casually directed the barrel of the DMR and cut it down with a single bullet to the skull, the bullet blasting out the back of its head in a puff of red mist.

"The only thing flowing like a sieve is your mouth." He retorted in irritation, stepping over a log and shredding another one of the bioweapons in a hail of gunfire.

Just how many of these damn things were there?

Miyu chuckled weakly.

"W-Was that a joke I just heard?"

Six chose not to respond, opting to crush one of the reptilian's craniums with the stock of his weapon instead. He was too busy to care. If not for her injury they would already be at the shuttle. Now was not the time for idle banter. How she could be so witty while she bled from a grievous wound was beyond him.

As another one of those relentless creatures dropped to the ground in a lifeless coil of limbs, Six backed up into a very familiar clearing. Recognizing where they, were the spartan tore a frag from his bandolier, lobbing it into the path of their attackers and shifting his body to cover the feline from the precariously close explosive.

From the way they were positioned, with the spartan holding her to his breastplate, Six's face was placed inches from the feline's muzzle, the only thing separating them being the thick silver visor of his helmet, leaving the lynx's amber eyes to stare up into him.

"Hi." She hailed him with a toothy grin, moments before the grenade detonated, showering them in shard of bark, shrapnel and vegetation.

Six watched on his HUD as his already weakened shields dropped dangerously but thankfully she was unhurt by the explosion. The spartan waited until the rain of soil and organic parts stopped before releasing the lynx from their "hug" and setting her down on the ground, trying to ignore the quiet sigh of disappointment that she produced. Instead he scanned the clearing for any signs of the creatures. From the looks of it, the ones that had not been killed by the blast retreated, scared off by the light, heat, and sound the device generated.

Now confident that they were, for the moment, secure, he turned his attention to the shuttle, noticing that it was thankfully still intact. Although, from the new nicks and claw shaped gouges in its hull he suspected the creatures had tried to unsuccessfully find a way inside.

With the area clear, Six returned to the lynx he had dropped to the ground and helped her back up to her feet, guiding the limping feline to the closed ramp. With them no longer in immediate danger he no longer had to carry her, yet she still needed some help to move.

"Helping a girl back to her house eh? I didn't know you could be such a gentleman, Six." Miyu teased as she held onto his side for support, unable to reach his higher elevated shoulders.

Six dained to ignore her quip once more, but he did catch her when she began to falter a few feet from the keypad, holding her up gently in his strong grip.

Miyu leaned against him, perhaps more than she needed to, as she entered the code to lower the ramp.

The steel door hissed and popped open as it began its descent to the loam of the jungle floor, the two waiting for the sluggish mechanism in awkward silence.

"So...that was quite the stroll wasn't it?" Miyu asked the spartan halfheartedly as she waited for the ramp to finally hit the dirt.

"It was one of the more placid trips through a jungle that I have experienced." The spartan agreed, watching as her muzzle warped into a disbelieving smirk.

"Really...?"

"There were fewer explosions this time." He elaborated.

"Ah...." Miyu nodded slowly in understanding, yet not really understanding what he was talking about. It had seemed plenty wild to her.

Finally, the ramp finished its trip to the ground and Six assisted the feline with walking up the incline and closing the ramp behind them.

They almost made it to the cockpit before Miyu collapsed against him, hissing in agony and clutching her side.

"Gah, Fuck! Put me down! Put me down!" She mewled hurriedly, groaning in pain as the spartan hesitantly set her down on the deck.

Six quickly kneeled at her side, an almost unnoticeable tinge of concern in his voice.

"Are you alright?"

 

"No I am not alright. One of those fuckers stabbed me!" She snarled, her paw hovering over her injured side. Almost immediately she felt guilty for yelling at him, but she was in far too much pain to worry about apologizing at the moment.

If affected by her anger he did not show it as he stood up and walked away, delving into the cockpit and returning moments later with a large white container painted with an apparently universal red cross. The spartan set the medical kit down beside the feline and snapped it open, delving inside for the appropriate tools. But he was not completely familiar with what to use for an alien.

Thankfully, she suspected this and helped him along.

"Grab the syringe. No. Not the blue one, the white. Yes that one."

Six held up the large hypodermic needle and looked back to her for confirmation on what to do next.

"Here give it to me." She ordered, urgently gesturing for him to place it in her paw.

The spartan nodded and handed it over, watching as she snatched it from him and tore the cap off with her teeth, unceremoniously plunging the needle into her thigh and falling back against the hull with a low winded sigh. He suspected that the syringe must have contained some sort of powerful pain reliever.

He gave her a few minutes to settle, waiting till she started to guide him once more.

"Now then, I need you to grab the sterilizer, tissue regenerator, and the portable organic welder."

The spartan just stared at her in silence.

"Oh jeez, just give me the box." She muttered with a defeated sigh. Taking it from the spartan's uncertain hands and pulling out the devices she needed. Once she had everything ready, she addressed him once more.

"Right, since I have no experience in first aid and I am particularly squeamish when it comes to operating on my own body, I need you to do this." She correctly assumed that he would have the knowledge that she did not.

"Very well, what do you need me to do?" Six inquired, hoping that he actually knew what he was doing. This would be his first time trying to patch a hole in an alien and not trying to make one.

"First thing, I need you to take of my vest and unzip my flight suit." She explained without missing a beat.

"Come again?" Six rumbled in confusion, instantly thrown far away from his comfort zone.

"Oh, don't be such a tight wad." She muttered reproachfully. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

Six wasn't completely innocent. There had been very little privacy back when he had still been a part of the program. He and the other children, male and female, had shared communal showers and bathrooms. The spartan had seen enough back then. But that didn't mean he was comfortable with any of this.

"Go ahead and take your time Six, I'm only dying over here." She chuckled drolly, the action causing her to groan in discomfort and hunch over.

That being the deciding factor, Six cursed every deity he could name off the top of his head and reached for the top clasp of her vest. It didn't help that the feline was grinning at his obvious discomfort.

Why he deserved to be tortured for his kindness he did not know.

Despite his bulky gauntlets, his fingers were dexterous enough to undo the row of downward clips along the vest and he carefully helped her slide out of the sleeveless apparel. He took the article of clothing and set it down next to her, examining her final piece of kit, the flight suit.

He did his best to be objective as he studied her to gauge the extent of her injuries, but it was even hard for the spartan not to notice that she was an excellent exemplar of the female form. She was heavier and stouter than Krystal, but that was offset by her more obvious muscle mass. He imagined she could give an ODST a run for his money in the sparring ring and maybe even himself, although he doubted it highly.

Six coughed and shook his head, reminding himself that she was still hurt and he bent closer, gingerly feeling around the open wound.

It was bad.

The creature's talon had struck her just below the ribs, digging deep past her fur and into the lynx's tender flesh. Luckily, it must have missed anything vital, since she was not coughing up blood and her breathing remained unaffected, so he safely assumed that her lungs were also undamaged.

But there was a lot of blood, enough to ensure that her flight suit would need to be replaced, and he suspected that she might need a transfusion once they were back to safety. Most of the bleeding looked to have stopped, but the garish gash still oozed at a worrisome pace.

She could not afford to lose much more.

With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Six unzipped her flight suit and assisted her with removing the uppermost portion, letting it hang behind her.

"Like what you see?" The lynx asked with a salacious smirk.

Six chuckled and shook his head, unwilling to admit that her comment had helped him ease his stress.

"Now is not the time for jokes, Lynx." He reprimanded her without too much of his usual gruffness. Despite it all, the situation he faced was actually quite amusing. At the very least it was a brand new experience.

These cornerian females were...fuzzier, than their human counterparts.

As she pointed out what the sanitizer was and he grabbed the oddly shaped device, the cat broached a thought she had been holding onto for quite some time. Miyu felt that now was a perfect time to try and learn more about her mysterious team member, seeing as he was being more responsive than usual.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked, pressing the only button on the device and watching as it sprayed down her wound with a thin mist-like substance.

"Call me and the others by their last name? Instead of Fox, you call him Mccloud and Slippy and the others like that as well. What's with that?" She wondered, tying not to focus on her painful injury.

Six grabbed the tissue regenerator as he thought about her question. He supposed it just came natural to him. It was easier to avoid forming attachments if you kept them at a physical and verbal distance. Speaking on a first name basis implied that you knew that person well enough to do so. And if you were that close to them, then you would inevitably care about them. Calling Fox and the others by their last names made it all seem more platonic, the way he preferred.

"It's easier for me." He replied as he reached for the next device she pointed out, similar to the previous hypo, except this one bulkier with a thicker needle.

"Easier...?" She mimed with a confused tilt of her muzzle.

Starting to understand these alien medicinal tools, he inserted the hypodermic needle into her side just above the wound and depressed the plunger, letting its regenerative contents enter her system. He used the time it took do this to try and formulate his reply. It was difficult for him to find words to accurately describe the reason, not because he couldn't, but because he was reluctant to do so.

"Six...?" She mumbled softly, gazing up into the unmoving spartan's visor, more concerned for him at that moment then she was for herself.

Hearing her softened voice shook him out of his indecision.

"I have lost many comrades over the years. A spartan's duty demands sacrifice, and I have sacrificed much for it. So yes, it's easier, easier for me to keep people at a distance, easier to remain alone." As he spoke, the spartan used the last tool to gently seal the wound in her side. "I do not make friends easily, and the ones that I had were bonded by blood and fire. We fought and bled together, and in the end...they died. And I did not. Friendship is a weakness. all it has ever brought me is misery and heartache. I have no need of friends, not anymore."

 

The cat was so distracted by what he said that she hardly felt the machine as it seared the gash in her side closed with intensely hot directed energy.

"That's a wretched way of thinking." Miyu muttered quietly.

Six shrugged and stood up, his task finished, her wounds healed.

"If you had lived my life I doubt you would feel such sentiment." He held out his gauntlet. "Now, let's finish this. I grow weary of this accursed jungle."

 

Miyu gazed up into his impassive visor silently.

So that's why he had exploded on her before, simply because she had called him friend. The feline didn't know whether this made her angry or sad, at whom she didn't know either. It was a terrible imperative for someone to live by, but she could not fault him for it after hearing what he had survived. And there was no telling if he would ever change.

But, she did know something.

She would try to help him. She had no stake in this, no reason to do so. Yet she felt that someone had to make the effort. And she wasn't about to let Krystal get ahead of her in anything. After all, what was with a little friendly competition?

It was time to see who would be the first to win over the spartan's iron heart. Miyu could certainly use the friendship of a seven foot colossus.

With a toothy smirk, she accepted his proffered hand and let him help her up.

"I couldn't agree more."

 

*****

 

Fox stood at the edge of the landing pad with the others, watching as the bulky grey hued dropship settled to the tarmac, its struts sinking into the soft dirt. To say that he was relieved to see the ship was an understatement. It had been more than an hour since his garbled talk with Six, and he had feared the worst.

The shuttle's ramp opened and the pair stepped down it. Both looked worse for wear, Six's armor was ornamented with a new tapestry of scars and Miyu clung to the spartan with a noticeable limp. Her left side bandaged heavily with a faint but no less visible red stain. It looked like their trip through the jungle had been hellish. And he was starting to regret sending them.

But on the bright side they were successful, and the supplies it carried would be instrumental in their efforts.

Six and the attached feline strode up to Fox, stopping a few feet away.

"Mission accomplished." The spartan declared neutrally, his tone of voice as mild as if he was commenting on the weather and he had not just waded through a monster infested jungle.

Fox shook his head ruefully. He had to give Six credit, he was certainly something else entirely.

"Excellent work you two. Are you alright there Miyu?" He asked, focusing his attention on the bandaged feline with audible concern.

"Just peachy, had a hole in my side until just a few minutes ago, but I'm doing just fine." She grunted irritably, giving him a none too pleased glare.

Fox winced under the deserved barely hidden rebuke. Perhaps he had acted foolishly with his command, but he had felt it was the right thing to do at the time.

"Head to the infirmary. The doctor will help patch you up. It was about the best he could do for her at the moment. And he promised himself that he would talk to her later to clear the air.

"Come on, Six, help me over there will ya." Miyu asked.

With a nod, the spartan helped guide the hobbling cat deeper into the base. If he felt the same way about His orders, he gave no outward sign of it, not that Fox would have been able to tell anyways.

"She's really upset you know." Krystal spoke from his side. She had a good understanding of her friend. And the cat was indeed displeased.

Fox nodded. "Yeah I know. I think anyone could have seen that. I'll talk to her later."

Krystal ducked her head in understanding and swiveled away, probably going to check on Miyu and see if she could be of any help as well.

Fox turned to Falco, who had been standing off to the side, Fay beside him.

"Come on guys, let's unload these supplies, then we can see about finding a way of fixing this mess."

 

*****

 

Six watched from a distance as the doctor and one of his nurses examined Miyu, tidying up his inexperienced handiwork. He had used what knowledge he possessed in the art of healing but admittedly it was more for stabilizing the injured than promoting healing.

He was unsure why, but he felt the need to watch over her, even now after the danger had passed. Six tried to pass the sensation off as his duty as a member of the team, but it did not quite fit.

Miyu mewled in pain as the doctor examined the sealed wound, the action eliciting a low growl from the back of the spartan's throat.

His reaction surprised him further and Six looked down at his now tightened fists.

'What is happening to me? Why am I acting this way? What is it about these people to make feel such a way?'

 

Never before had he felt this protective urge. Six had always disregarded others, preferring to work in solitude. It was how he kept himself disassociated and free of attachments, making their potential loss easy to bear. But he had opened himself up with Noble Team, and for that he had his heart ripped out of his chest at their deaths.

So why?

Why was his heart allowing itself to open again, to aliens no less?

They did treat him as a regular person, or at least as well as they could giving what he was, a towering soldier wreathed in armored plates. They had not ousted him and slotted him as an outcast, but rather like a thinking feeling being. Not only that but they had placed him on their team, unknowing of who he truly was, risking the dangers that could have befallen them.

This team, this Starfox, had given him a chance for more than just a reason to fight. They had given him a chance to have a reason to live. And for that, he owed them more than he could possibly give. It has been a long time since he had anything besides himself and the war to keep him going. And though he did not treat them particularly well, he was doing the best he could.

He supposed he should meet their attempts of comradery halfway. But he was afraid of opening that part of him again, having kept it locked away for so long, longer than he could remember, before he had been augmented and still the child who had lost everything. Was it worth the risk to let them in?

He had little left to lose anyways.

Six heard movement behind him and a familiar female voice made itself known.

"She'll be alright. She's taken worse hits before and she always bounces back. If anything I'd be more worried about the doctor."

The spartan turned to regard Krystal, the vixen's jade eyes trained on her friends as the doctor finished his checkup and the nurse administered a second dose of whatever pain reliever it was they used in this galaxy.

Miyu hissed as the needle pinched her arm.

"Son of a whore! Why don't you just jab that in a little farther then if you're trying to take my arm off!" She scolded the unfortunate nurse, her obsidian claws tearing deep into the bed's sheets with the faint ripple of shredded fabric.

"I believe you are right about that." Six agreed with a mellow chuckle.

Krystal snickered lightly, her soft laugh tinkling pleasantly, as melodious as a wind chime.

Six could not help but smile upon hearing it, her giggle being one of the more agreeable sounds to grace his hearing.

"So, what about you? Are you finally going to let me wrap that shoulder up?" She inquired with a hopeful look.

Six mulled it over.

Bandaging his shoulder while in armor would be a cumbersome and awkward task. But he supposed after the rapport he and the vixen seemed to have reached the night before, he could allow that much.

"I would appreciate it." He acceded to her request with a shallow dip of his helmet.

Hearing his acceptance, Krystal practically beamed up at him, glad that he trusted her enough to let her help him. It was nice to be doing something for him after all he had done for them.

"Great, just follow me!" She declared brightly, leading him to an empty bed at the back of the infirmary.

Six sat upon the steel cot and waited for the vixen to do her work. He was undeniably curious to see what she had planned.

The vixen paused and hummed to herself as she thoughtfully rubbed her palms together. After a few moments, she landed on her course of action, reaching for the shelf on the wall beside him and shuffling around its contents, retrieving a roll of gauze and a small device that looked exactly like the sanitizing tool he had used on Miyu not so long ago.

"Right..." She murmured to herself quietly as she reached for him. Once the vixen's paws laced around his bicep he felt an odd tingle in his arm. This was one of the very few times a female had gotten so close as to touch him, discounting the previous night and his ferrying of Miyu through the jungle. Those were unique circumstances and he was still not quite settled with it all.

The vixen herself could not help but blush when she grabbed him. Even through his armor she could feel his corded muscles underneath, as firm and unyielding as steel. She could see where it was he got his remarkable strength from. But it was one thing to see his power, and a whole other to be able to feel it.

Krystal did not often give much thought to males, mostly focused on her other pursuits and her line of work. But it was exceptionally hard not to when she was holding onto such a statuesque individual as Six. The vixen knew that he was genetically enhanced, but for her that did not diminish him in her eyes in any way.

Even as she stood there, she could feel his muscles rippling under her paws with precisely controlled power. She doubted there were many, if any, cornerians that could boast such strength as he did.

Krystal's errant thoughts wondered what it would be like to be held in his arms, to feel his unarmored body against her own.

The vixen shook her muzzle roughly and discarded those indecent suggestions with a deeper blush, the white fur on the ruff of her cheeks burning pink as the blood rushed to her face.

'He'd probably skin me alive if he knew what I was thinking.' She was glad that she was the only one that possessed her extrasensory ability.

With her thoughts now mostly unclouded, she focused on tending to his injured shoulder.

Krystal felt around the wound, and discovered that it was already mostly dealt with, just needing a wrapping of gauze to cover it and a healthy spray of disinfectants for good measure. It would have been easier for her if he just removed a part of his armor, namely the shoulderplate, but she had a feeling he would have declined. Instead she worked around it, wrapping what she could in the white cloth. It was not her best work, but that was hardly her fault.

When she finished spraying the wound and wrapping it up, she tore the excess bandaging with her teeth and put the rest away where she found it.

"There, you're all set." She declared with a grin, backing up a step as the spartan slid off the bed.

Six studied his newly covered shoulder and rotated it a few times before nodding in satisfaction, shifting his helmet towards her.

"Thank you Krystal, I appreciate the help."

 

The vixen glowed under the unexpected praise, surprised that he would have gone so far.

Perhaps they were changing him after all?

"Of course Six, I was glad to help." She replied, her tail flapping back and forth behind her in delight.

"You two lovebirds done now?"

Both turned to the speaker and saw Miyu standing a few feet away, her slouch gone and looking mostly back to normal, though her nose was still a little pale. Her vest had been replaced with a jacket a few sizes too big, most likely a spare uniform shirt.

Krystal blushed a third time from the cat's insinuation, doing her best to keep it disguised with a cough, covering her muzzle with a paw.

"Miyu! I'm glad to see you up and about already."

"As am I." Six nodded in the feline's direction. He truly was heartened to see her in better shape.

"Yeah well I can't let you guys out of my sight for long. Who knows what trouble you'd get into?" The cat chuckled and flicked her tail.

Six took a step backwards and let the two women get reacquainted, using the distraction to exit the infirmary and search for Mccloud. His odd desire to ensure Miyu's health now satisfied, he felt that he could afford to leave them alone for now and focus on the more important business at hand.

It did not take him long to find the vulpine. Fox was in the process of unloading the supplies with the help of Falco, Fay, and a few of the base's soldiers. Once he had turned with a container in paw, Six flagged him down, waiting till Fox got close.

"What's the plan now?"

Fox set down the container and dusted off his furred hands.

"Well, now Fay just has to fix up the array and we can contact the General. There's nothing else to it really."

"What do you need me to do?"

Fox shook his muzzle. "Don't worry Six. You've done more than enough already. We're done here. Once we get in touch with Pepper we'll wait until reinforcements arrive before we head out."

Six couldn't believe it.

"That's it?"

 

The vulpine nodded casually, scratching at an ear.

"Yep, we did what Pepper asked us to do. We both know there's not much we could do to get rid of these chimeras."

"...Chimeras?"

 

"That's what we're calling em anyways. There's no telling how many there are and I'm not one for trawling through the jungle and finding out. That's a job I'll gladly leave for Special Forces. We'll probably stick around for a day or so until Pepper can send a ship. But once it's here we're heading out."

So that really was it then? They were done here. It did not quite feel right to Six. He never left until a mission was completely done. But he was a mercenary now, and he supposed that came with certain undesirable changes. In the end, he would follow Fox, whatever his orders were.

Fox picked up the container and motioned for Six to help.

"Come on, let's unload these boxes. There are people who need these supplies."


	10. Unforgotten

Chapter 9: Unforgotten

 

The CNDF relief ship arrived at the week's end, carrying building supplies and a fresh detachment to replace the survivors, who in turn were heading back to Corneria aboard the very same cruiser where they could receive better care. True to his word, once the ship arrived in system, Fox gave the orders to pack up and return to The Great Fox.

It had taken some time for Fay to get the comms array up and running, but as soon as she did Fox contacted Pepper and updated him on the situation. The General decided that it was sufficiently imperative to warrant the deployment of a battlecruiser and its payload of marines.

So they readied to leave, a steady flow of relief transports landing at the airfield and unloading the new arrivals as they packed up.

It was when they were loading the shuttle for departure that Six noticed something interesting. Another transport, this one dark blue, landed beside theirs' and disgorged a small group of soldiers different from the rest, covered in thick silver armor and no more than fifteen in total. At first glance, Six almost thought they were wearing MJOLNIR.

These were unlike any of the soldiers he had seen before. They marched down the ramp of the shuttle with impressive purpose, not a single boot out of step. Each of the new arrivals carried a weapon similar to Falco's assault blaster, though they were somewhat smaller scale, but not by very much. Their faces lay veiled behind their full helms, but he was able to identify what race they were from the helmets' design. The large majority seemed to be a mixture of canines. The leader of this team was marked by a flowing black cape, something he thought was odd to have in this day and age. Unlike MJOLNIR, their armor was not unisex, and he identified their commander as a female by the feminine scheme of the breastplate.

She was an impressive figure, even to him, being the largest cornerian he had come across, standing at just a few inches shorter than himself.

But what arouse his curiosity most was their armor. Upon a more thorough inspection, he realized that they were not quite as notable as he had first thought.

Each suit carried a bulky pack built along the spine, and judging by the faint yellow glow emanating from the metallic rucksack's rods; it was some type of portable power core. That only further led him to assume that they were not self-sustaining as his was. And no doubt they did not have shields either, nor was their armor as thick as his. If anything they could be loosely compared to as being somewhere between Mark III and IV if he was being generous.

As curious as they were, Six was not so easily impressed, and so after his observation, he disregarded them and helped the team finish loading.

Once the last of the empty supply crates had been placed aboard the spartan watched as the team boarded the ramp and he waited for Fox, who was speaking with Siegfried, the base commander. Six had not spoken with the canine at all, but he seemed like a decent soldier.

While Fox finished whatever parting words he had with the captain, Six slowly noticed an uncomfortable prickling along his neck. Never one to disregard a bad feeling, he turned away from his watch over Fox and searched for the source of the disturbance, his investigation ending with the selfsame armored female he had first discounted, the two locking gazes through their respective helms. 

Unintimidated, Six stared her down, impressed when she had not turned away as many had under his unseen glare. Instead she eyed him right back with a similar steely resolve, the two apex predators sizing each other up. He could tell she was no weakling, it taking a certain something to withstand his gaze.

After a few moments, he nodded, offering a small modicum of respect, and watched as she did the same.

"Hey Six, ready to go?"

The spartan turned away from his silent conversation towards Fox, who stood at the lip of the ramp waiting for him.

"Yes" He replied absentmindedly.

The vulpine accepted his answer and stepped up the incline, disappearing into the shuttle.

Looking back, Six noticed the female soldier already walking away, leading her troop deeper into the base amidst the new wave of reinforcements. With a shrug, he shouldered his rifle and followed Fox up the ramp.

 

*****

 

Once the shuttle parked in The Great Fox's hanger, the team was quick to disembark. Krystal helped Miyu limp to the Infirmary, the cat's healing process not quite yet complete. It would be a few days before she could be cleared for duty once again.

Falco wandered off on his own, grumbling about how he had not seen much action, no doubt heading to the armory where he usually spent most of his time.

Once he was sure everyone was taken care of, Fox left in a hurry as well. It had been too long since last he spoke with Fara and he was eager to correct that with a quick call.

With everyone filtering away so quickly, it left Six and Fay standing alone in the hanger. The spartan watching as the others left so quickly with a trace of humor, but not without a touch of despondency. The battle concluded, he had nothing to do until the next one. Spartans did not have hobbies, at least none that he knew. He did enjoy tinkering with machines, but that was something he did not often have the time or means to do. Most of his time spent since coming here had been up in his quarters, reviewing mission recordings and wondering if there had been anything he could have done to change the events on Reach. Maybe if he had been faster, or fought harder? These were the things he often wondered in the darkness of his room.

Fay shifted her feet as she stood next to him. The canine had not yet really had the chance to talk with their new member, not any fault of his own. She was embarrassed to admit, even to herself, but she was scared of him. The spartan was a terrifying individual, and she still had not forgotten what she had seen him do to Oikonny's forces.

It was as if there was some intimidating aura emanating off him. Despite this, she felt bad for the man. Fay had heard from Krystal and Miyu on his origin, a victim of a violent war threating the continued existence of his species and stranded far from home, a world destroyed by the very creatures he had fought.

Usually, she was an outgoing person, but something about him nullified that part of herself and turned her silent and meek, startled by the quietest word to come out of his mouth.

Even now as she stood beside him in the hanger she felt as if a paw was tightly wrapped around her throat, preventing her from speaking a word. She even meaped when she noticed him turn his helmet towards her.

Seeing her obvious discomfort, the spartan dipped his head slowly in farewell and walked away, the tread of his boots echoing in the cavernous hanger as he too left to his own devices.

As soon as the doors closed behind him, she let loose a long winded breath she had unknowingly kept pent up inside. The canine could not help but feel remorseful for the way she acted around him, but could not stop herself. He was just so scary!

With a sigh she moved to leave the hanger too, intending to find Slippy and see if he needed any help. His antics always cheered her up.

 

*****

 

Six departed the hanger with a slight frown. It had been easily apparent to him that his presence had been the source of the canine's discomfort. Such a thing came as no surprise to him and he didn't give it much thought, though it was somewhat disheartening. He had seen identical reactions in countless people over the years, soldier and civilian alike.

The spartan decided to wander the halls of the ship, waiting to see what he wanted to do. During his drifting, he came across Fox who had just been leaving his room and the vulpine had informed him they were going to head back to Corneria. Apparently there was nothing they could do for the moment.

The war was actually going surprisingly well. At least that's what the vulpine told him. The Macbeth and Katina campaigns were swiftly ending in victory. It seems that they had been ready for attack this time. He had also heard that the General was planning even at that moment on how to break the siege on Fortuna and was in the process of preparing to implement it. But it would take at least a week for everything to fall into place, apparently it was something big. So for now they were going to head back to Corneria and...relax, Six believed was the word Fox used. How they could do so while a war raged confounded him. Still, he supposed if there was truly nothing they could do, then it mattered not how they spent their time.

As to how he was going to spend it, as he had walked the halls, an idea came to him on how to improve his suit further. But first he needed to speak with Slippy. If the toad had the required materials, then what he planned to achieve would be possible.

Now knowing the somewhat decently, it did not take him long to find the toad, rightly guessing that he would be in the engineering workshop, as he usually was.

Once the spartan entered the room he was surprised to see not only Slippy, but Fay there was well. The both of them chatting as they worked on something, a machine of some sort, he knew not the purpose.

Knowing his effect on the snowy canine, he decided to be more courteous than he usually was and waited in the back until they finished.

He had no desire to see that look again.

Both were so distracted by their project that they did not notice his presence until long after they finished, the spartan using that time to look over his own equipment, both what he had left behind and what he had brought with him.

"Oh hey Six, didn't see you there."

The spartan looked up from the partially disassembled DMR on the table and noticed Slippy standing a few feet away from him.

The toad looked just like last Six had seen him, covered in grease and a thin film of sweat. He may have not been a soldier, but he was definitively, a hard worker.

"Yes, there were some questions I wanted to ask you." Six replied, looking past the amphibian and seeing Fay leaving the room in a rush, no doubt trying to get away from him once more. He gave it little thought as he turned back to hear Slippy's response.

"R-Really?" Slippy wondered, surprised that the spartan had personally sought him out. They had not spoken often, a few words in passing at the most. He had gotten the distinct feeling that Six was just ignoring him.

"I was hoping you could tell me what materials you have aboard the ship."

 

"Sure, I could help you out." The toad answered, returning the tool he had in his webbed hand to the belt around his waist.

With Slippy's help, he was able to identify the necessary compounds used to create the alloy that made up the plates of his armor, knowledge he gained from countless hours learning everything he could about his MJOLNIR. He did not worry so much for his titanium nanocomposite bodysuit. It possessed a prototypical function that would gradually mend the recent tears over the next few days, another gift from its advanced design. Indeed, the development phase for the self-repairing nanobots permeating the suit faced completion, and was going to be implemented into the next generation of MJOLNIR armor systems.

Once he had the materials he needed, he learned of something onboard called a micro-forge, which contrary to its name, was not at all small. The machine dominated a full third of the expansive chamber, and was what Slippy used to create the resources he needed to repair the Arwings and The Great Fox itself.

Despite himself, the spartan was interested by all this new information and talked with the toad as they both worked on their respective projects.

He discovered that not only was Slippy an excellent mechanic, but he was also an authoritative source of information on many subjects, ranging from the inner workings of a blaster to the parts needed to construct an arwing from scratch. The level of intelligence the toad possessed impressed Six and he found new admiration for the amphibian.

Six spent a long spell in the workshop. The process of creating what he needed was long and arduous, given he had to learn how to utilize the micro-forge. It would take some time before he would finish repairing his armor, several days by his best guess, less if he dedicated all his attention to the task and even longer before he was able to work on his plans for modifications.

But as he toiled away an idea came to him. Since it seemed he was stuck in the universe indefinitely, he would need to have a viable stock of munitions to draw from. And the one who could help him with that was in this very room.

Storing away what he had prepared already, Six went to speak with the toad once more. Crossing the workshop and making his way over.

Slippy was deep in his work and only a prod and word from Six dragged him from his determined efforts.

"Slippy."

 

"Huh...oh Six, what is it pal?" The amphibian wondered, flicking his welding mask up. He was working on the same project Six had seen before they left for Zoness. By now it was taking on a more recognizable shape, although it was larger than last he saw it, now a full five feet in length from tip to tip. What the amphibian wanted with a metal pole of that size remained a mystery.

In response to the toad's previous question, the spartan pulled the MA37 off of his back and extracted its clip, popping a round from the magazine and holding it out.

"Is there any way you can manufacture these?" Six queried hopefully.

"I don't know, let me see." Slippy replied uncertainly, taking the bullet from Six's gauntlet and holding it up to his eye, examining it intently.

After a few moments he sighed in defeat and pulled it away from his face with a frown. "I don't think I'll be able to make these. The materials needed have not been manufactured in at least a hundred years I'd guess."

That was unfortunate.

"However..." Slippy added with a thoughtful crease to his brow, gesturing to the gun. "If you gave me a few of these bullets and that rifle there, I should be able to do one better."

"Better...?" Six muttered. His interest peaked.

"Oh yeah..." Slippy nodded confidently. "I've actually been kicking around an idea for a new weapon for quite some time. But I haven't had the chance to try my hand at it. The only thing is, I can't guarantee if it will work, and the process could destroy your rifle. But if it doesn't, I can promise it'll be better than anything you've used before."

Six thought it over. Losing his assault rifle would be a deep blow, but it would run out of ammunition anyways. Better it is used for a chance at something more.

The spartan handed over his gun.

"I trust you'll not fail." And he did. From what he had seen and heard from Slippy, he was confident the toad could do what he guaranteed. He was as capable as any mechanic Six had ever met, not that he had come across that many in his journeys. Still, Six felt there was more to this toad then met the eye. He had a certain knack for technology, something that would have definitely peaked the office's interest if things had been different.

"Really?" Slippy asked in surprised elation. He had been eager to try out his little dream project for a long time, but he had lacked the necessary equipment. Six's weapons were unique and their ballistic properties were just what he needed to get things rolling. What was more, the spartan was confident enough in his skill to hand over one of his weapons, a link to his old world. It was a lot of trust to place into him, and he was honored that Six did.

"I know you are a master weapon smith. I have no doubts you'll succeed." He really didn't. Mostly because he could not afford to, but he did think Slippy was talented enough. He even went so far as to give him his magnum. "Can you do it for this as well?"

The toad shrugged and took the small sidearm, holding both of in his hands and looking upwards. "If I can do it for your rifle, this should be a piece of cake. Anything else you want me to work on?"

Six shook his head. That would be more than enough for now, and he wanted to have some weapons left in case an emergency arouse. They had some time before their next mission it seemed, enough he hoped, for Slippy to finish what he planned. But one could never be sure of anything.

"No. That is more than enough. Thank you, Slippy." If the toad delivered, he indeed would be very thankful.

"No problem Six. That's what friends do." Slippy waived off the spartan's gratitude as he turned away, ideas already forming in his head on how to get what he wanted done.

Six froze at the word he was starting to hear more often, but decided to let it go. Instead he bade the toad farewell and exited the armory. Time would tell if Slippy's assertion was true.

 

*****

 

Of all the compartments on The Great Fox, the recreational center was Krystal's favorite. Unlike the common room, which functioned more like their impromptu dining hall. The rec center doubled as a gym and a more relaxed place for the team to unwind.

Over time, it had become her meditation chamber as well. It was suitably far enough away from the engines and their quarters to give her the quiet and solitude she needed. It was rarely used so it was not often she had to worry about interruptions.

This was fortunate since she had a lot on her mind on this day.

There were many things occupying the vixen's attentions. There was the war, the first one she had ever seen. She had joined Starfox some short time after the first Lylat War. And with Cerinia so secluded she hadn't heard of it until she met Fox and the others. Her homeworld had been a wonderful place, with war being a foul word that almost never saw use. She still missed Cerinia dearly, its pristine oceans and beautiful forests. But more than her longing for the ruined world was the ache for her family.

She missed her mother and father terribly, as well as the many friends she had as well. Krystal would never forgive Andross or Venom for what they had done. The destruction of a world was abhorrent in itself, and it being hers made it all the more so.

The only connection with her past was the staff she had been given by her mother and the ceremonial garb she kept safe in her room. And her memories of course, they were never that far away. Now, she knew what war was like, had her first taste of it. And it was just as appalling as she imagined it would be. Why the people of Lylat were so prone to conflict she knew not. Of course it was more Venom's doing than anything else, but she could not help but feel some loathing for it all.

She had trained to become a guardian, a protector of Cerinia. Yet she never thought she would have to use the skills she was taught in any martial ways. They were a race of empaths, able to feel and react to each other's emotions. That made it quite difficult to want to hurt someone. Now that she thought about it, this had made them woefully unprepared for the rest of the universe. Kindness and compassion did not seem to take anyone that far in the Lylat System.

Six's attitude was far more adapted to this way of thinking then she was.

The spartan's outwardly unfeeling ways and despondency seemed to adjust well to his new surroundings. And he had come from a different place entirely, farther than she had. Yet, look what it had done to him. His life was nothing like she had ever heard before, a polar opposite of the one she had lived. Where she had spent most of it in a state of peace and harmony, he had endured an existence of conflict and loss.

With her abilities, just being around him affected her negatively, her empathic powers feeding off the excess of his closely guarded emotions. All that repressed anger and hurt was almost like a physical sickness. Fortunately she was strong enough with her abilities that it was only a mild nuisance. But she could not escape it, not only because he was a member of the team. But because she could not in good conscience, allow a fellow being to suffer.

Krystal had always wanted to be a healer, and that's what she would have been if the events of her life had played out differently. But she was not opposed to fighting, especially against Venom.

She wanted to help Six, for his sake as much as her own. He may be a merciless warrior and he may seem heartless. But she was beginning to see in him something that no one else did.

He was not a man who cared not, but a man who cared too much. She could sense in him a fiery desire to defend...to protect those who could not help themselves. She had first seen an inkling of this on their initial meeting. It could be a result of the conditioning he had spoken of, but she was certain it meant something more. Six was a defender, a guardian, much like she had strived to be.

Six threw everything he had into becoming the shield, so much so that there was little left of himself to himself. Krystal doubted he thought of anything else, his drive, indeed the only thing keeping him going, being this one truth, blatantly apparent without the use of her telepathic powers.

The spartan was a thought-provoking conundrum, the most complex man she had ever met. There were so many layers and intricacies to his psyche that she doubted that an entire life spent around Six would ever allow her to completely understand him. There was little chance he even understood himself. Undeniably, he was an exceedingly unique individual.

Despite all his blameless faults, there was much to be admired about Six, his steadfast loyalty, unflinching resolve, extraordinary strength both physical and psychological, and fierce, (if unknowing), compulsion to defend others. After speaking with him that one night, she suspected she knew him better than anyone else he had met in his life. At that moment she had a fleeting, unrestricted glimpse into his mind. There she discovered that there was compassion, kindness, even happiness therein, but these emotions were so subdued, lodged so far under seemingly countless layers of misery and grief that she had barely managed to sense them, in spite of her tremendous power.

Her greatest question, amidst the many she wished to ask, was why. Why did he help them? What was it that made him decide to join their team?

"This is interesting. I had not thought to find you here."

 

Krystal opened her eyes upon hearing that unmistakable gruff voice, peering up from her cross-legged stance on the floor and into the familiar silver visor of none other than Six himself. To say she was surprised to see the spartan here, of all places, was an understatement. It was as if her thoughts had summoned him.

"Six? I must admit, I had not thought to see you come here either." She replied smoothly.

In response, the spartan shrugged and gestured around the room with one of his paw-like gauntlets. His impressive stature was still something to be awed by. "I was just wandering around the ship. I'm still trying to memorize the layout. You cornerians build your ships differently."

 

"Oh, I'm not a Cornerian." She disclaimed.

"You aren't?" He asked in slight surprise. He had thought they were like the covenant, all under one banner. Sure each species had a name, but in the end they all called themselves the covenant.

"No. I am a Cerinian." Krystal clarified as she held up a paw beckoningly.

"And where exactly are Cerinians from?" He inquired, helping her to her feet easily.

"That doesn't matter much anymore, for I am the last." She murmured softly, grabbing her staff of the floor mat and gazing into its jeweled crest.

"The last?" The spartan responded with a noticeable pause.

"Correct, my homeworld met a fate similar to that of yours."

"...Is that so...." Six rumbled quietly, his tone devoid of its usual harshness.

"Yes. It was destroyed by Andross at the end of the Lylat War. My parents are the only reason I stand here today." She explained, unable to keep all the anger and sadness from her tone.

Cerinia had been a peaceful and prosperous world, but not very advanced. More spiritual than scientific, their exploration of the stars was almost insignificant. They only had a handful of space worthy ships to call their own, and they had never expanded past their local system.

Consequently, they had been terribly outmatched when Andross arrived to test one of the wicked weapons he was so fond of building. During the attack, her parents had taken her to the royal stargazing vessel. What had previously been used as a means for her family to enjoy the beauty of the stars in greater detail, had in the end been the only thing to save her life. There, they had insisted that she leave while they stayed behind to protect the people. No one had known that Andross did not want the planet intact.

Hence, when she watched her homeworld go up in flames and realized she would never see her friends or family again, her grief had nearly been soul shattering. Only her need for retribution had kept her going until she met Fox and joined his team. Just recalling the dreaded events of the past was enough to raise her hackles and bring her to tears.

So caught up in her emotions, she did not notice that Six had taken a step towards her. But she did feel the spartan's cold gauntlet slowly eclipse her trembling paw, stopping its shuddering with gentle force.

Opening her eyes in astonishment, Krystal gazed up into his bright silver visor.

"Dry your tears." The spartan growled softly. "They will not help you or the ones you have lost. Do not give into despair, for it will weaken your resolve. Instead shift your thoughts away from the past now set in stone and aim them towards the future, which will forever remain uncertain. Yet never forget what has been taken from you. Keep your gaze locked on the horizon, not the sunset."

 

Six's rough, yet kind words conveyed a certain understanding that no one else had ever shown her. He knew exactly of what she spoke of. He had lost his home as well, although at a much younger age, the spartan still had an acute grasp on loss and its effects.

It was quite apparent that he was giving advice based on personnel experience.

Despite the direct and rigid tone he took, his words comforted her. Six released her now steady paw and the vixen wiped her eyes and sniffled as the spartan took a step back.

"T-Thank you." She whispered, the vixen's appreciation shining brightly in her eyes. His recommendation held merit. Her friends and family would not want her to feel sorry for herself. They would want her to press on, to keep living. Sulking in the past would not help anyone, least of all herself. She didn't know why it took the spartan to help her realize it.

In response, Six gave one of his customary nods and turned, leaving the room just as silently as he arrived.

It was amazing, how he could be so quiet.

Krystal gazed down pensively at the paw he had held moments before.

Six was indeed a remarkable man.

 

*****

 

The silent hall was filled with the soft tread of Six's boots, the spartan deep in thought. It had been a long time since he had reason to dwell on the events that had forced him onto the road of a spartan. His brief interaction with Krystal was apparently all it took to dredge those bitter memories from their heavily guarded confines.

He had been but a child when the covenant attacked Concord Dawn, but he remembered everything in crystal clear detail, the wailing of the populace and the roar of combat as the local militia futilely engaged their genocidal adversaries.

Six had a shoulder level view of the death of his world, carried on the back of his mother. He even remembered the stray plasma bolt that had taken her life, dropping him to the unforgiving dirt.

He had also remembered whimpering pitifully, hugging his mother's corpse. Yet...he could not recall her face, nor the sound of her voice, not even her smile or laugh. It was all just a blurry haze of murky recollections, clouded by trauma almost too great to bear.

It had been a marine that saved him in the end, one of the soldiers brought by the fleet. The woman had picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the pelican. After all these years, he had never known her name, just another faceless cog, lost in the machine of war. He wondered what his mother would think if she saw him now, what he had become of her little baby boy.

Six was startled to feel wetness on his face, a single streak of saline water trickling down his cheek. The spartan paused in mild curiosity and placed a gauntlet onto his helmet tracing the droplet as it made its way down.

Curious...he could not remember the last time that had happened.

 

*****

 

Fox was excited to return to Corneria, even if it may be only for a brief time. It had been too long since he had seen Fara and he was eager for their reunion. He imagined the rest of the team was just as keen on retuning for their personnel reasons.

The Great Fox landed at the starport and the team was all eagerly gathered around the exit ramp. Even Miyu had ignored Fox's protests and left her bed in the infirmary. It seemed that not even a brush with death would stop her from getting some R&R.

Fox frowned.

All but one it seemed. With a sigh, he put his plans on hold and watched enviously as the others quickly filtered out, ready to put their free time to good use.

Sometimes it sucked being the leader.

He found his target with little difficulty, simply heading towards the person in question's room and knocking on the door.

"Hey Six, we're here." He shouted through the heavy steel partition.

Sixty seconds later on the dot, the door opened, revealing the towering spartan in all his glory.

"The team's all heading out to town. Aren't you coming?"

Six shook his head.

"I will be content with spending my time here."

 

"Are you certain?" Fox asked in concern. Everyone, even ROB had left, although the robot just needed some maintenance done on his chassis.

"I will be fine." The spartan rumbled softly, almost dismissive.

Fox wasn't assured if he was overthinking things, but Six seemed more cowed than usual. Whether it was just him or not, the vulpine wasn't about to let it go. Alien supersoldier or not, Six was still one of his crew and Fox always took care of his friends.

"Come on..." He urged, motioning for the spartan to follow with the tilt of his muzzle. "I have some stuff to do. Why don't you tag along?"

"Is that an order?" Six enquired.

Fox thought it over and shrugged. "Sure, why the hell not."

The spartan did not reply for a full minute, eventually nodding in reluctant acceptance.

"...Very Well." He muttered, sounding anything but pleased.

"That's the spirit! I knew you would see it my way!" Fox declared with a barking chuckle, slapping the spartan's shoulderplate.

Six sighed. "We all see what we want to see, Mccloud."

 

*****

 

Needless to say, his first experience with this version of Reach was...interesting. Shortly after stepping off The Great Fox's ramp, they had to go through something his vulpine commander called starport security.

Apparently they didn't like the idea of a seven foot killing machine walking through the streets.

It had taken almost all of Fox's legendary charismatic maneuvering for him to get the spartan past this. Which was fortunate, as Six was not feeling all that lenient recently and he doubted his patience would have lasted that long.

In the end he had to submit his weapons at the gate, only doing so with the promise that they would not be tampered with in the slightest. Six was loathed to leave his gear behind but once more it came down to Fox's orders.

The worst part of all this, was the crowd that had formed to watch the spectacle. Six did not know whether they were there because of him or Fox, but it was probably both. He had heard of the vulpine's system wide fame from listening in on a few casual conversations on the ship. Apparently mercenaries were a tier of celebrities all their own. And of this militaristic elite, Fox was the plinth on which most of the praise was heaped.

It even seemed that a few of the individuals there wore clothing with the team's logo on it, some odd form of hero worship he suspected.

He suspected they would have gotten closer if not for his frightening presence. He could easily take a guess that not many fully armored soldiers strolled through the streets, something far more common back where he came from. On Reach before the invasion, it was not unusual to see a squad of marines on duty, almost always accompanied by the ever faithful workhorse of the UNSC, the warthog.

Despite the loss of his weapons, Six was glad to be rid of the starport and its throngs of curious onlookers, but it was only a brief respite, for it was far worse once they left.

Corneria Center, not a very original name, but massive nonetheless. The sprawling metropolis spread as far as even his augmented eyes could see, a maze of glimmering marble spires and countless skylanes of these bizarre flying cars. The streets outside of the starport were flooded by the alien masses, either coming to or from the stars. There must have been at least hundreds of millions of souls living in this eye absorbing spread, possibly a full billion he even went so far as to suspect. If this had been a UNSC colony, Six might have dained to call it beautiful, or majestic, a sign of humanity's sovereignty.

But it wasn't.

Still, he guessed it was heartening to see a version of Reach that still thrived, even if it was populated by aliens, as long as they were not the covenant he supposed it was acceptable.

Outside, Six watched as Fox hailed a hovering yellow vehicle that came to a stop beside the curb, stepping inside after a few words.

"Come on Six, what are you waiting for?" The vulpine demanded, sticking his muzzle out of the open window. It seemed he was eager to escape all the attention, as they were quickly being noticed by the crowds.

They shared that much in common at the least.

Six eyed the small car with distain. The spartan loathed small spaces, a valid concern with his size, and he doubted it would hold his wait.

Still, another urging from Fox swayed his unease and he entered, sitting beside the vulpine.

Almost immediately the hover vehicle groaned and dropped a few inches closer to the paved roadway. The driver, a bright yellow canary, looked back through the small window in shock, clearly surprised, an expression he shared with Fox.

"Just how much does that armor weigh?" The driver chirped, if phased by the spartan's appearance, he gave no outward sign. The cab driver no doubt had seen weirder thing over the years.

"A lot..." Six replied neutrally.

"Aye, I'd wager that much." The cabby chuckled, a sound more like birdsong then a genuine laugh. "So, where is it you want to go?"

Fox leaned forwards. "Take us to CDF headquarters, the one on Meril and directly across from Servil Boulevard. Know the place?"

"Yeah I know it." The bird replied, the vehicle moving as he spoke.

Six watched as they lifted up from the ground, moving towards the skylanes he had seen before. He was silent during the trip, taking in this alternate world, so similar and yet so different. The landscape was the same, it was just the civilization that had changed. Ironically, this place stood right on top of where New Alexandria would have been. He could even see the place where the elite zealot had given him the scar across his face. What had once been a shattered courtyard was now a plaza, filled with restaurants and a shopping mall. The fallen skyscraper where Kat had been killed was in this place, a municipal park, a flowing viridian ocean of hand sculpted foliage. It was almost insulting, seeing an alien race thriving upon the spiritual bones of mankind. It seemed where they had failed, the cornerians succeeded. Despite all their faults, they still held onto this world, where humanity could not.

"So...how different is all this from Reach?"

The spartan turned over to Fox, who was eyeing him inquisitively. The vulpine was eager to hear how different the other world was to his own.

"Before or after it was destroyed?"

 

"Preferably? Before that."

Six returned his gaze past the window.

"Very...."

 

 

*****

 

After a half hour flight, the driver dropped them at the steps of the CDF building, one of the many through Corneria Center from what Fox told him. After the war, the General and Prime Minister had decided to stage more along the more urban areas of the city, a wise decision indeed. There was no such thing as too much protection in the spartan's book.

Six followed Fox up to the gate, studying the many storied building as he approached. In spite of the defense buildings purpose, it still had that imperious architecture that was apparently so common with this race. The defenses were integrated into the design, a more pleasing aesthetic he supposed then the more robust edifices of the UNSC. That did not mean this place was defenseless. The spartan's sharp eyes could detect the creases in the walls, hidden turret mounts he suspected, and the garage was big enough to house a full complement of tanks.

A small task force of infantry were stationed at a garrison building near the gates, a few young dogs chatting around a table, there weapons leaning against their chairs. Their lack of discipline irritated Six to no end, but he let it go. There were many things that made him angry, he didn't need something else.

The spartan's boots thundering along the drive alerted the soldiers and they quickly left their card game and tried to look somewhat respectable.

It was quite amusing for Six to see their reactions upon noticing Fox and himself. They were visibly frightened of the hulking spartan and it was easy to see their trembling. Their height never ceased to be a point of interest to Six. Only one of their race up to this point was close to matching his stature, and that was the female on Zoness. Krystal was close at exactly six feet, yet he had learned she was not one of their kind, like himself he supposed.

He followed Fox all the way to the gate, where the five canines trembled, and one of them reluctantly stepped closer. Yet, despite his presence, they could not help but look excited upon seeing Fox and the spartan heard the vulpine sigh under his breath. It would seem he was not welcoming of his fame as others might have been, something Six respected about him.

"W-Wow, I-IT's you! I mean you're the Fox Mccloud!" At the high pitched yapping of the soldier, Six guessed he could be no more than seventeen years old, like many of the marines he had met in his time, and not all that younger than himself, only by a handful of years he suspected.

"Yeah, that's me." Fox nodded, lacking any trace of enthusiasm in his voice.

Apparently oblivious to Fox's reluctance, the dog continued.

"Wow, I mean just wow! It's an honor to meet you sir!" The canine stuck out his paw, and shook Fox's vigorously when the vulpine accepted it. "Jeez, you're so cool! So howdya do it? How did you beat Andross?"

Fox sighed. "Maybe another time kid, I need to see Pepper, it's kinda important."

The young soldier nodded and backed up. "Right, right, of course. I bet you and the General have a lot of planning to do, or something."

"Yeah, kid, that's right, something like that. Can you let us through please?"

"You and your...friend?" The canine looked up into Six's visor, visibly gulping.

"Yep, that's Six. He's new to the team."

"Oh..." The dog muttered, his expression suddenly shifting from nervous to excited all in the span of a few seconds. "Well, it's nice to meet you too Six!"

The spartan nodded uncertainly, somewhat put off by the lively young soldier.

"Yes...likewise."

"Right, well I'll send ya right through!" The dog happily made his way back to the guardhouse and opened the gate.

As Six and Fox passed by, they could hear him excitedly babbling to his companions.

"Did you see that? I talked to Fox, the Fox! I can't wait to tell the others!"

"Oh god..." Fox grumbled under his breath, Six letting loose a small chuckle.

"What?!" The vulpine demanded, whipping his muzzle around to face the spartan.

"Nothing Mccloud...nothing at all." Six replied neutrally.

 

*****

 

Inside the building, they came up to a receptionist desk, manned by a female mink in a dark grey uniform with blue highlights. The mustelid had an earpiece and was busily tapping away at a terminal in front of her with the noticeable clatter of claws on a keyboard.

Fox strolled up to the desk and leaned on it, waiting for the mink to notice him. Six decided to stick back for this one. He was already tired of it all.

When she did notice the vulpine, the woman smiled.

"Hello, what can I do for you?"

"Can you tell General Pepper that Fox Mccloud is here to see him?"

Nodding, she reached for the device clipped to her ear.

"Yes....Fox Mccloud is here to see you sir. Send him up? Yes of course, you're welcome Sir." The mink looked back to Fox. "The General is ready for you now, floor thirty, all the way to the top."

Fox dipped his muzzle in appreciation, turning to the spartan.

"Come on, let's go. The General has wanted to meet with you since the skirmish in orbit."

Six was quick to follow after the vulpine. He must admit, he was curious to see this General as well.

A walk through the hall and a short elevator ride later and they arrived at the top floor. From there it seemed like Fox knew where to go and the came across a big set of double doors, manned by a pair of soldiers, similarly armored like the ones he had seen on Zoness.

"Fox Mccloud, here to see General Pepper."

The soldier on the left nodded and spoke into the device on his left wrist before motioning for his companion to open the door.

As Six moved to follow, the two soldiers raised their weapons defensively.

"Whoa there, he's with me! The General wants to talk with him." Fox explained hastily, his hackles raised until the guns were lowered back to their rest position.

Six admired their loyalty, but if they had attacked him, it would not have amounted to much.

The same guard spoke into his device before he nodded once more.

"Pepper will see you." He growled.

"Thank you." Fox exhaled in relief and walked through the doors, Six close behind.

The inside of the General's office was surprisingly bare, only having a small amount of personnel effects, nothing but a few pictures lined along the room. It was distinctly different than some of the chambers he had seen belonging to UNSC officials. It lacked that imperious air he was so used to seeing.

The only lavish aspect of it all was the desk and the huge window showcasing the far-reaching city in all its glory. The desk was immense, a huge slab of carved wood, no doubt imported from some exotic planet of this system and handcrafted by practiced carpenters. But Six could forgive that, seeing as it was an instrumental tool of office.

Behind the huge bureau was a single padded chair, occupied by this General he had heard so much about. The bloodhound was decked in a dark crimson uniform with devotedly polished silver buttons and bright gold epaulets, something he had not seen worn in a long time. A hat was placed precisely atop the general's head and not a single crease marred his uniform. Six hoped he placed the same amount of dedication into his job as his uniform. If this was true, he would have little problem with this Pepper.

"Ah, Fox, it is good to see you in person. And I see you've brought Six. I have heard a lot about you." The hound's voice was crinkled with age, but no less commanding as he gazed across the large room to the spartan.

Six felt that it would be courteous to salute. There was something about this Pepper, an air that demanded respect. Not many in ONI had been capable of holding it. Those that did, Six had gained high opinion of. They were the bulwark of humanity, and he their sword.

Six held a gauntlet up to the side of his helmet.

"General..."

 

"Ahh, a soldier to the core are you?" Pepper mused with a deep chuckle that reverberated through the room. "I remember those days, but I fear they are long since gone. Tell me, is all that I have heard about you true?"

Six lowered his gauntlet.

"It depends sir, what have you heard?"

 

"Quite a bit and enough to make me curious. Some would say you're a liar, weaving fanciful stories."

Six growled.

"But..." The General stalled with a raised paw. "You don't seem like the sort to lie."

"How can you tell that?" The spartan was genuinely curious.

"It's in the way you carry yourself son." The dog replied easily. "I have come across many liars in my days, and you don't strike me as one of them. So, I'll ask once more. Is this true? Are you really from a different universe?"

Six did not know how to feel about the dog calling him son, it filled him with an odd melancholy, but he quickly quelled such notions. "As far as I can tell, yes."

 

Pepper hummed and leaned back into his chair.

"Interesting...tell me everything."

For the second time, Six told his story, editing out the more personnel information he had shared with Krystal. The human covenant war, spartan program, years of endless bloodshed, the billions of lives lost, all but the most secret operations he undertook came to light. Six was further convinced that nothing he said here would endanger anything any longer. There was little to any chance that this information could be used in any meaningful or harmful way.

At the end he paused, letting the General muse.

After a few silent minutes the hound nodded.

"That is indeed one hell of a story. You've been through a lot son, more than I could possibly hope to imagine. Now I am even more curious. Why have you decided to help us? Why not just sit it all out?"

Six shrugged. "To be honest, Sir, I know no other life but war. It's what I'm good at, what I've been raised for. Your cause seemed honorable enough for me to justify helping you."

 

"Is that so?" Pepper chuckled. "Well then I'll just say we're lucky to have you son." The general cleared his throat and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. "I think I've kept you standing long enough, come have a seat. We still have much more to discuss."

Fox took one of the proffered chairs easily, but Six refrained.

"Is there a problem son?"

"Not at all General, the chair won't take my weight."

 

"And how much is that?"

"In armor? Little more than half a ton."

 

Fox whistled, clearly impressed. "That's a lot of metal."

"Indeed..."

 

"In that case, I'll understand if you remain standing." Pepper smiled. "Now, let's get down to brass tacks. As you no doubt may have heard, Macbeth and Katina are almost won, it is Fortuna I am most concerned about."

The General placed a paw on his desk and activated some sort of device, moments later a holographic image materialized above it and a shutter drew across the window, shrouding them in darkness. The image was of a mid-sized world, with a large number of ships hovering on opposite sides. "As of recently, the battle has stalled into a stalemate. We can't risk further losses in orbit to push back their fleet and the venomians can't reinforce their groundside forces with our own fleet in orbit as well. And with the heavy curtain of AA we can't get troops or fighter support down there."

Fox studied the map closely, murmuring to himself.

"That sure is a problem. You said you had a plan to get past this?"

Pepper nodded.

"Correct, Fox, but I'm afraid it is going to cost a lot of lives." The canine maneuvered the image, focusing on one of the ships on the CDF side of the orbital blockade. "You no doubt recall the Honorbound?"

"That's the ship you saved isn't it, Six?"

The spartan nodded and the General continued.

"Then you should know the Honorbound has a detachment from the 48th commando division, The Howling Wolves."

Fox looked impressed. "A whole unit?"

"Indeed, the only way I can see to break the siege is if we send them down in dropships, and have an escort of fighters to attract most of the AA fire."

"That sounds pretty dangerous sir." The vulpine frowned.

"Very much so, as I said, this is going to require some losses."

Six frowned, something about this plan seemed off, but he could not quite place it yet.

"What's the target?"

 

"The target..." Pepper began. "...is an installation on the western hemisphere somewhere in quadrant D. A recon team from the CIB spotted the venomians erecting the base during the first hours of the invasion. It is our belief that is what controls the AA layer covering the planet. There has to be a reactor to power all of those guns and this is the only compound large enough to accommodate one of sufficient size. So the plan is to get the team of commandos down there and disable their Anti-Aircraft capabilities. With those gone, we can send in reinforcements and turn the tide in our favor."

"I hate to be the voice of doubt sir, but what happens if we lose one of the dropships?" Fox enquired. "I mean there will only be a couple to begin with, and they'll need everyone they can get to take out that base."

Pepper sighed. "We'll just have to pray they all get through."

That was it. That was what was missing from this. Six stepped forwards and studied the holo map in greater detail, turning to Pepper.

"Do your people not possess drop pod technology?" What had been nagging him was the method of deployment. There was little to no chance those ships could slip past a planet-wide defense array. On the other hand, a wave of drop pods would have little trouble, at the very least reducing casualties by a large margin.

"Drop pods?" Pepper muttered in consternation. "What are you talking about?"

"SOEIVs, Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles." Six elaborated, gesturing towards the map. "With the pods you would be able to get your soldiers down to the surface with minimal casualties, possibly even undetected."

 

The General harrumphed skeptically. "I have never heard of such technology."

"The UNSC employs it all the time to slip past covenant armadas and extract VIPs, among other reasons."

 

"We do not possess such means." Pepper muttered thoughtfully. "However, I have heard Dr. Beltino mentioning something very similar to what you are telling me. But he has not made any breakthroughs. And even if he did, it would take too much time to make enough for the assault. We have a limited timeframe of opportunity before Venom makes their move. Oikonny himself is said to be arriving shortly, once he's there. I am certain the invasion will reach full swing."

"If you can make such devices, you need only create one. I can take out the Installation." Six affirmed confidently.

"You could not possibly do such a thing by yourself." Pepper's disbelief was evident.

"Such missions are what spartans were made for. I guarantee sir, if you can get me down there. I will knock out those guns for you."

 

The General turned to Fox.

"What do you think on this plan, of these...drop pods?"

Six turned to Fox, waiting to see what his input would be. The vulpine's decision could make or break this plan.

Fox showed little hesitation.

"If Six says he can take those guns out, I believe he can, sir. In fact I can guarantee it!" The vulpine grinned positively.

"Then it is settled." Pepper clasped his paws together and rested them upon his impressive desk. "I'll talk with Beltino later today and have him and his assistants start right away on creating one of these drop pods. With his full attention on the project and the stakes at hand, I believe he should be done in a matter of days. Until then, Six..."

The spartan turned to the General.

"I suggest you spend some time here on Corneria. If this world is indeed identical to yours, there are without a doubt some places you wish to see, I'd imagine."

The spartan nodded and watched as the bloodhound rose from his seat, walking around his huge desk and holding out his paw.

"Thank you, Six. I understand this must be difficult for you to work with us, and I want you to know I appreciate your efforts. Fox was right about you."

The spartan hesitantly accepted the aged canine's paw, wondering why the people of this universe were so fixed on shaking hands with each other, but also surprised to hear what he did about Fox.

"It's what I've been bred to do."

 

"Yes...you've told me as much." Pepper nodded, chuckling. "But I think there is a little more to it than that. Now then, you're dismissed."

Fox bid The General farewell and motioned for Six to follow him out.

The spartan complied and they walked out the office and down the corridor, Six staring at the vulpine's back.

Once they entered the elevator, the spartan spoke what was on his mind.

"Thank you, Mccloud."

"What for?" The vulpine wondered curiously as he looked to his towering companion.

"For having...faith, in me." Fox was the first person he had met, to place any modicum of that treasured resource into him. There was an extensive difference between faith, and trust, it going farther than that simple word.

"Of course, that's what friends do, Six. We put faith in each other." Fox grinned up at him, the vulpine's smirk no longer eliciting a negative reaction in him.

Instead Six grinned back, his expression hidden behind his mask but noticeable in his tone.

"So you have told me. Well then...Fox, what's next on your to do list?"

At first it did not register what the spartan had called him, but when it did, the vulpine's grin widened. But, not wanting to scare off this newly arisen side of Six, he didn't give any bigger reaction than that.

"Well....I was going to visit someone. You can tag along if you want?"

Six shook his head. It was obvious that the vulpine would want to meet this person on his own, and the spartan appreciated the effort he was making. But something Pepper suggested had kindled his interest.

"I will have to decline. There is something I must do first."

 

"Will you be fine on your own? Corneria Center is a big place, and you'll no doubt attract a crowd wherever you go."

Six chuckled. "I am no child, Fox. I'll be fine. Besides, I've been here before, remember?"

The elevator opened and the pair stepped out, exiting the building and stopping at the steps.

"Right, well keep in contact and try not to hurt anyone. We cornerians are a curious bunch." Fox ordered as he hailed another cab, climbing in and hanging on the door as he looked back. "Remember, not even the annoying ones!" He warned with a clawed digit, directed at the spartan accusingly.

"Yes, not even the annoying ones." Six sighed good-humoredly.

The spartan watched as the vulpine zipped away inside the cab, smiling softly to himself. Perhaps there was hope yet...perhaps.

"Oh wow! Are you a robot?"

The spartan's smile evaporated and he groaned silently.

That was if his patience could survive the next few hours.


	11. Faded Memory and Distant Promise

Chapter 10: Faded Memory and Distant Promise

 

"Oh wow! Are you a robot?"

Six turned away from the departing hover car and transferred his gaze to the little ball of fur standing only a few feet away from him. He couldn't tell whether the small child was a cat or dog. He had the floppy ears and long muzzle of a Labrador, but had an obviously feline form and tail. The kid was dressed up in a thick winter coat and his paws were covered in bright red mitts, leading Six to assume that the weather was cold. The spartan was not sure what to make of the child, or his wonder etched snout.

"Baxter!" A female voice gasped in mortification, Six watching as the kid's paw was quickly grabbed and the pup was dragged closer to who he assumed to be the child's mother.

The spartan looked up from the adolescent towards her. At least some part of the cub had to be felinus, as that's what the woman was. From her looks, she must have a military background, if the uniform she wore was any indicator. He was curious as to what branch she served in, or if these cornerians even had branches separating their armed forces. The thought had not occurred to him until just now.

The feline crouched down beside her cub and shook his shoulders gently, giving him a stern look.

"What do we say?"

The cub ducked his muzzle shamefully, clutching his tail as he shuffled his little boots and turned to the spartan apologetically. "Sorry mister."

Once her son had apologized, the woman gracefully stood up and shifted her gaze to Six.

"I'm sorry about that...Sir." She hesitated briefly upon seeing the looming warrior. "Baxter suffers from the same thing all children do, diarrhea of the mouth. You know how kids are." She chuckled ruefully and ruffled the top of the young hybrid's head, ignoring his embarrassed protests.

"Jeez mom, stop!" The pup whined, trying to pull away unsuccessfully.

"Do not worry. It is of no concern." Six did not know how kids are, having never spent any reasonable length of time around them. But he decided to humor her. "Now if you will excuse me, there is something I was in the process of doing." Six rumbled dismissively, turning to head down the street, his path already plotted into his HUD and marked with a blue arrowed waypoint.

"Wait a moment." She called out. Stopping the spartan's departure and eliciting a quiet sigh from him.

"Yes...?" He glanced over his shoulder. 

"I hate to be a bother." She began.

Clearly she didn't, otherwise she would have let him walk away.

"However I felt the need to ask, and I hope I am not imposing by doing so. But are you in the service by chance?" She inquired, waiting patiently for his response.

Six shifted back around to face her and the child, conflicted. For once he was at a loss as to what to say. He had no response formulated for such a question.

"Was it the armor?"

The spartan watched uncertainly as the feline woman giggled, brushing a lock of charcoal black hair from her dark green eyes.

"You could say that. I suppose it was a stupid question wasn't it? But I just had to ask it."

"There is no such thing as a stupid question." Kurt-052 had told him that many times, and while Six did not necessarily agree, it was a phrase that had stuck with him through the long years.

As her giggling subsided, the woman sighed and her jade eyes took on a distant air, muttering thoughtfully to herself.

"You know...my husband used to say the same thing."

Six could hear a familiar tone in her voice. It was one he was quite used to.

"Then he was a wise man." The spartan claimed with a steady nod.

The woman smiled up at Six and placed a paw on the silent child's shoulder. "That he was." She agreed with a sigh. "Now, I think introductions are in order, especially after my son here mistook you for a robot. I'm Mira." Again, that outstretched paw.

The spartan grasped it firmly and returned the shake.

"Six..."

 

"Six? That's an interesting name."

"Indeed..."

"Well, this here is Baxter." Mira patted her son. "He's a troublesome little ball of fluff most of time, but's he's a good kid at heart."

"Hi mister." The young hybrid waived shyly.

"Hello young one." Six rumbled softly in return. He had no desire to scare the child. The spartan knew the effect he had on most people. In fact he did not know how to feel about the kid, something about his youthful eyes set him on edge. Those bright blue irises were distinctly familiar. Yet he could not place them.

Mira chuckled bashfully, ignorant of his thoughts. "Here I am prying again, but where is it you were heading?"

"There is a park in nearby. I want to go to it."

 

The spartan watched as Baxter tugged on the hem of his mother's uniform.

"Mom, that's where we're going, isn't it?"

Mira looked down to her son. "Yes honey, it is. I don't suppose you would mind some company?" She asked, turning to Six.

He shrugged. "I don't own the sidewalk, feel free to do so."

 

*****

 

And that was how he gained two unexpected companions. Six was reluctant to admit, but he was somewhat grateful for the company. As of late he was not as welcoming of solitude as he typically was, and they acted somewhat as an unexpected buffer between him and the crowds. Since she was in uniform, they must have dismissed him as a soldier alongside her, which suited him just fine.

But the child, Baxter....

Something about the kid unsettled him, and it was more than just the eyes.

The spartan watched as he stumbled along ahead of him and Mira, feline tail zigzagging back and forth excitedly. The kid was probably lost in his own imagination, a place far superior than any an adult could devise, free of war, strife, and grief.

It was his innocence that disconcerted Six, his purity. He had lost that childlike wonder so many years ago, stolen from him by unforgiving fate. In its place darkness has festered, polluting his soul and staining it black. The child's very presence pained him, a visual reminder of what had been taken, those carefree years of youth gone, replaced by war. Yet pain was not the dominating sensation inside him. There was a pale welling of contentment combating it. Despite his suffering, the world went on. And while that did nothing for him, he was happy to see that there was still innocence left in the universe, whether it was his or another did not matter. There was far too much hate and agony for the world to exist without it. He hoped Baxter cherished every moment, for it would not last forever.

"So, what's your story, Six?"

The spartan shook away his errant musing and focused on the dark furred feline walking along beside him. The cat's fur was as black as pitch, much like his soul he'd imagine.

"There's not much to tell." A blatant lie, but preferable to the truth.

"That can't be, there's got to be something." She persisted, looking up to him curiously.

"What about you? What's yours?"

 

Mira chuckled and shook her muzzle wryly. "Touché, Six, touché. I suppose I can start first. What do you want to know?"

He wasn't really interested in her life story. But as long as she did the talking, he didn't have to.

"What about your husband?" Six had never really quite grasped marriage. That would require him to understand the emotions behind such a decision. But perhaps he could learn something here.

"Ah, Malcolm..." She murmured quietly to herself. "We met just after basic, he was heading into the infantry and I was dead set for communications. He was a goofy fuzzball back then, but something about that was what drew me in I suppose...."

As she talked, Six let himself study the city. It was an interesting design, just like any human colony he had visited, yet with an alien flare to it. Two sidewalks sat on either side of the street, a few surface vehicles still chugging around, but they were mostly civil service by the looks of it. Crowds traveled up and down both sides of the pavement, a mixture of species as well as professions. There were cornerians dressed up in business and casual attire both, with a sprinkling of uniformed bodies scattered throughout. Tall buildings towered above them, but the city's planning had them spread out so as not to be too overwhelming. In the spaces were little outlet stores and other places of the like.

Deciding to check the waypoint, Six learned that they were still a few kilometers from the park, the gardens hidden behind the scattered skyrises. He could have stricken a faster pace on his own, but he was not altogether against the present company.

"...Then the war broke out and he was shipped off to fight." Mira continued obliviously. "A few weeks later I received the news of his death and months after that, Baxter was born."

Six jumped back into the conversation.

"It must have been tough." He wouldn't know, but it sounded like the right thing to say.

The feline nodded, sighing as she looked to her son, who was still blazing a trail ahead of them. "Yeah, it was difficult for a long time, but the CDF helped me and Baxter out. I still miss Malcolm, that's one thing they can't help me with. And he'll never get to meet his father." She looked up to him. "What about you, have you lost anyone?"

Six could not stop a dry chuckle from slipping out of his throat.

What a question to ask.

Mira gave him an odd look, unaware of the irony of her query.

"I have lost quite a few people over the years, my family, fellow soldiers, just about everyone I've ever known."

 

"Oh....I see." She mumbled softly.

No. She couldn't quite see, that would require knowing him personally, but perhaps she did understand.

"I didn't mean to be insensitive." She apologized timidly.

Six shook his helmet. "Hardly, it's only fair, one account for another. War takes what it wants, I think you know that."

 

"That I do..." She nodded solemnly.

Such thoughts dampening the mood, they lapsed into silence, one watching Baxter and the other looking up into the sky.

 

*****

 

The park was beautiful, Six would confess that much. Kilometers of open forest was arrayed before him, an entire ecosystem within the confines of a city. Stone paths meandered through the flora, populated with small groups of visitors taking in the serene setting. It seemed the cornerians had an affinity with nature, perhaps their origins being directly responsible.

Six bid goodbye to Mira and her son when they reached the entrance, his plan called for privacy and he was sure they had other things to do. She seemed somewhat reluctant to see him leave. He did not really talk to Baxter and so he was unsure what his opinion would have been.

Once they were gone, he pulled up a layout of New Alexandria and overlaid it across the map he had created of Corneria Center. From there he wandered through the park, tracing a path by memory, with the aid of his HUD.

After an hour, he found what he was looking for.

A small glade rested far off the beaten path, a ring of trees circling a patch of brightly colored flowers. As if intended by fate, his destination lay exactly in the heart of the flower bed. Six weaved through the blossoms, careful not to step on them as he kneeled and reached inside his armor, extracting what he had carried since that fateful moment, what now seemed like a lifetime ago.

Lieutenant Commander  
Catherine-B320  
6' 9" (205.7cm)   
242.50lbs (110kg)

 

He could still feel the weight of Kat's inert body in his arms, dragging her then lifeless body to the bunker doors. The truth of the event had not hit him until they had slammed shut, shrouding them in darkness as he held onto her. And he had held her, as the Covenant glassed New Alexandria, destroying the city above them.

That's when he had realized....

None of them were going to see the end of the war. He had not been willing to admit it at the time, but her death had shaken him to the core. It was the first time he had seen a fellow spartan die, and it had not been the last.

Six gazed into the raised italics of the tag, all that was left of her, just a necklace, mass fabricated and produced for every soldier in the UNSC, every soldier equal in death. They were heavy in his grip, almost too heavy.

The spartan examined the clearing, taking in the tranquility of the scene. Sunlight laced through the branches, illuminating the silent glade and bathing it in a mellow light, the bed of flowers glowing underneath the golden rays, shining with new life.

It wasn't a bad place to lay someone to rest.

Digging a shallow hole into the pleasantly warm soil with a gauntlet, Six gently rested her dog-tags inside, sweeping the mound of disturbed dirt over it with great care. Gloved hand raised, he tapped his index and middle finger against the lip of his helmet and pressed them into the freshly tampered earth.

"Farewell Kat, enjoy your rest. You earned it...."

 

Six rose from his kneeling position and took several steps back, studying his handiwork. It was far from an ideal funeral, but it was the best he could do...the least, he felt he could do. The spartan hoped she was at peace, she and the other members of Noble. They all deserved that much.

With a salute, he turned away and vanished amidst the trees.

There was one last thing he had to do.

 

*****

 

Fox was just starting to enjoy his reunion with Fara when he got the call. With a groan he pulled himself off the couch, leaning over the sleeping vixen and grabbing the comms bracer that had been sitting abandoned on the table beside the TV for the past few hours.

Once he saw who it was his groan intensified. Muttering to himself on the lack of free time he had, Fox tapped the screen.

"What is it Falco? And it better be good." He snarled irritably.

"Oh, it's nothing big." The avian's sarcasm was apparent, even through several miles of bandwidth. "I just got a call from the local boys in blue. Apparently some poor shmuck got carjacked....by a giant blue robot; I believe was what he reported."

"Giant blue robot...?" Fox muttered to himself in confusion, seconds before it dawned on him. "Oh...shit."

"Oh shit is right." Falco agreed. "It looks like our favorite supersoldier has gone rouge."

Fox sighed, rubbing the bridge of his snout. Why did something like this always have to happen? Could there not be just one day where nothing bad occurred, just one day? And just after the vulpine thought he and Six had struck a chord of mutual friendship the spartan had to go off and do something like this. Did he enjoy making Fox's life difficult?

It certainly seemed like it.

"Alright, get the team together. Do you know where he went at least?" He didn't fancy having to hunt Six down. Corneria was a big place, even when you're looking for someone like Six. But the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with the local authorities. And he wanted to hear the spartan's reasoning behind this sudden criminal act.

"Yeah, luckily the guy's car has a tracking beacon. You know, one of those fancy little things that rich people pay for? Last read they had on it shows the car heading east, to that huge crater a hundred or so kilometers outside the city. And don't worry, I told the cops we were going to handle this." It was fortunate that they had a little extra leeway with the police, otherwise the situation would have been a mite more complicated.

"Well that's something at least. Once you get the team grab a car and head out, I'll meet you guys there." Fox sighed again. "Wait for me before you do anything."

"Okay, see you there." Falco ended the call and the vulpine sat up, groaning as he wiped his face with a paw.

"Ugh...why me?" Fox muttered.

Moments later he felt a soft paw run itself across his shoulders comfortingly.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

Fox turned to the vixen lying beside him with a smile. "Don't worry, it's nothing big. But I have to leave a little early, but I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Fara pulled herself up and leaned against him supportively, holding his paws in her own.

"Is it that Six you were talking about earlier?"

"Yeah, seems he went off on his own and landed himself in a spot of trouble. It's alright though. I'm sure he has a good reason for it.

'At least I hope so.'

"Want me to go with you?"

"No it's okay, you go ahead and sleep. I'll be back before long.

"Are you sure?" She asked worriedly, concern apparent in her green eyes.

"Yeah I'll be fine." He waived her off with a grin.

She nodded, not completely convinced, and kissed his forehead. "Alright, stay safe and out of trouble."

Fox chuckled, still grinning. "Oh come on, you know me." 

"Exactly my point." She countered with a giggle. "Now get out of here before you never leave." She urged, pushing him off the couch.

"Okay, okay, I'm going...sheesh." He muttered humorously, sliding off the coach and getting dressed as he headed for the door.

Once he was ready to be seen by the outside world, Fox slipped out of the apartment and took the elevator down to the ground floor. Then it was an easy trip to his rented car, taking it to the crater outside the city.

 

******

 

An hour or so later, he approached the naturally massive basin, spying two cars at the edge. Assuming them to be his friends, Fox set his down close by. His assumption proved to be correct when he saw Falco step out of one and make his way over.

Shutting off the engine, Fox slipped out of his and met him halfway.

"So...the signal ends here. That's the car..." Falco gestured to the bright silver one that sat empty. "But I don't see the driver."

"He's got to be around here somewhere." Fox stated confidently, he wouldn't have gone far. Let's spread out, we'll find him."

"What do you think he it did it?" Falco wondered inquisitively. "Always took him as the type of guy to stay out of trouble."

"...."

"You know what I mean!" The avian muttered defensively.

"Yeah I know." Fox admitted with a chuckle. Falco did have a point, Six was the last one he suspected of going AWOL. But as he kept telling himself, he was sure the spartan had his reasons. The only real problem he saw was the theft of the car. That didn't sound like Six at all. But there weren't many beings running around Cornerian that fit the description applied.

"Well, let's get looking." Fox proclaimed loudly to his team leaving their vehicle. At that moment Fox had an errant thought onto their expenses. The two rental cars weren't cheap, even for a few days, and it took a lot of fuel to get out here. The trip back to Corneria was turning out to be a costly one.

They split into teams of two and headed out around the crater. No one really knew what caused it, but it's been around since anyone could remember. Despite being somewhat of a tourist attraction, not many cornerians made the trip out here. After all, to most of them it was just a really big hole in the ground. What Six wanted with a place like this was anyone's guess. Perhaps it had a significant meaning back in his universe? But he could have just waited for the team. Instead of stealing someone's car. They would have been glad to help him out. There was something off about this whole thing. The sooner they found Six the better.

It took a long time to find him, almost an hour. But Krystal and Miyu had been the ones to see him, spying the spartan close to the lip of the crater on the far side. Once found, they contacted the others and they met up at the two women's location, a fair distance from where they began.

What they all saw was something they would not soon forget.

The spartan kneeled before a funeral cairn of stone. One it seemed he had erected himself. His armor was completely covered in a film of rusty brown earth and he carried a silver chain in his gauntlets, held up to his helmet like one did with prayer beads. At the end of the chain was a pair of tags, quite obvious as to what they were as the light of the sun glinted off the shining steel.

Once they realized what the spartan was doing, they began to feel as if they were intruding on a very private and very personal moment. Six had in fact not gone AWOL. He had just wanted to have a secluded memorial for one of his comrades. This was his world after all, at least one exactly like it. One, they remembered, where his previous team had been killed. Less than a month had transpired for him and their loss must still be fresh in his mind. The spartan never talked about his past and they had almost forgotten the events that had brought him here. But this was a very vivid reminder.

"Ah shit..." Falco groaned awkwardly, turning away from the private scene. It didn't feel right to him, watching the spartan as he mourned. This was something meant only for him.

The others soon followed suit, walking back a short ways so that he could finish uninterrupted, all except for Krystal, Miyu, and Fox.

The two women had never seen the spartan like this. He had always appeared as having an indomitable spirit, strong and unyielding, no matter the circumstance. Dropped out of one universe and falling into the next, forced to adapt to a new way of life and another war. Six had never shown a sign single sign of weakness, not once had he collapsed under the enormous stress that must have been piled onto his shoulders. But in this one moment it seemed he had let some of that pressure go. It was a unique opportunity to see him act so mortal. Even a man like him was not invincible.

There was a soul inside that suit of armor, however battered and broken it might be.

Fox saw a lonely man, one without anyone to rely on or at least believed that to be true. The vulpine was not sure if he was being disrespectful, but he liked to believe that Six did not have to do this by himself. He would have been willing, even happy to accompany the spartan. No one should have to grieve alone, as he had with his father's death. Such an experience was as terrible as it was lonesome. Once Peppy walked in, the hare had been instrumental in helping him cope.

Now it was his time to take the hare's place.

Stepping forwards, Fox walked the distance to where the spartan kneeled and took up a similar stance beside him, not a word was given as he settled in. The vulpine just sat in silence, resting a consoling paw on the spartan's shoulder.

If aware of Fox's presence, the spartan did not openly acknowledge it, preferring to ignore the vulpine. But that was fine. People handled grief in their own ways. Fox just wanted Six to know that he was there.

There was no telling what went through the spartan's mind with that opaque visor. The only reason Fox knew a person was inside the armor was the subtle rise and fall of Six's chest. Fox watched in fascination as the spartan thumbed the links of the necklace in his grip. The CDF had phased out dog-tags during the last century, preferring the identification chips they implanted into the back of a soldier's neck. Yet, there was something mystical about a dog-tag, a physical link to someone's life, only taken from them upon death. The spartan quite literally held someone's life in his gauntlets and Fox could only imagine what Six was thinking as he had taken it from the fallen member of his team, as the world he knew died around him. The vulpine wished he could see what he had seen. Then he might have been able to better understand what Six was going through. As it stood all he had to go off was what the spartan had reluctantly given, which was not much in the first place.

Several minutes had passed in silence between them before the spartan finished. Then, in an act that took Fox by surprise, Six sinuously unsheathed the curved sword on his shoulderplate, the one he had been absolutely adamant on keeping, and swiped the blade across his palm, slicing into the thick glove and drawing a steady flow of blood. The spartan then clenched his gauntlet around the chain and let his lifeblood seep downwards, the crimson fluid running in rivulets along the silver beads. Once it was thoroughly coated, Six carefully placed them onto the makeshift headstone, pressing his palm into the rock and leaving a bloody print.

Shortly afterwards the spartan wasted no time in cleaning and wrapping the self-made wound before standing up and sheathing the exotic blade.

As Fox moved to join him, Six rested his uninjured hand on the vulpine's shoulder, stopping him Six's silver visor angled down at Fox.

The spartan did not utter a word, simply giving one soft squeeze before he turned and walked away, his boots thumping mutedly along the dusty ground.

Fox understood what had transpired and his black lips pulled into a small smile as he stood up to follow.

 

*****

 

In the end Fox had Falco return the commandeered car to the owner, letting the avian sort that unwelcomed bit out. While he did that, Fox decided to take the others back to the villa before heading back to Fara's apartment. Might as well get Six settled in there also.

Not that far from the crater, it was a relatively short trip. Once they arrived, Fox took them all inside. Everyone else knowing the place by heart, they disbanded throughout, letting the spartan have his privacy.

Since he had not thought he would ever have another team member, there were only enough rooms for the others and himself, leaving Fox with a conundrum. The answer came to him eventually. He would just let the spartan share a room with him. His room was already large enough to support at least two other people, Fox indulging himself in that regard. It would not be that difficult or expensive to just add a wall in later.

He took the spartan into his room and showed him around, pointing out the amenities and promised to set up another bed soon. For now, Six could use his, seeing as Fox didn't plan on coming back until tomorrow. The spartan listened to all of this in silence, the vulpine unsure if he was listening at all.

"So...you got it all down?" Fox asked once he had finished his once over.

After a few moments, Six gave a silent nod.

"Right then...if you need anything the others are somewhere around here and you can always give me a call."

Another nod.

It being quite obvious that Six wanted to be alone, Fox turned to leave. It was just as the door opened that the spartan at last opened his mouth.

"Fox...thank you." It was brief, and yet the words carried a certain power to them.

Smiling, the vulpine nodded and slipped out of the room, closing it and turning to leave, almost bumping into Krystal and Miyu as he did so.

"Is he doing alright?" The feline asked, looking over Fox's shoulder to the closed door.

"Honestly...?" Fox mused. "I don't know. He's not exactly an emotional person, but I think he'll be alright. Just give him some time, okay?"

"Of course..." Krystal agreed. "I'd imagine there is much on his mind."

"Yeah, so let him be. I won't be back until tomorrow, so if he decided to stay in there until then, that's his choice. Give him some privacy. He's been through a lot I'm sure."

"Jeez Fox, you only have to say it once. We get ya." Miyu submitted to the vulpine's repeated suggestion.

"Right, well I gotta go. See you guys later." Fox slid past them and continued down the hall before disappearing out of sight.

Miyu turned to Krystal with a grin, tail weaving back and forth mischievously.

"No." The vixen denied firmly.

"What, I didn't even say anything!" The cat meowed defensively.

"You don't have to. I know you and that's all it takes. Now come on, let's go. We can talk to Six later." The vixen turned and beaconed over her shoulder with a paw.

"Holy crap Krystal, You can be such a buzzkill sometimes." Miyu mewled, yet still followed after the vixen, albeit reluctantly.

 

*****

 

Six unhurriedly popped his helmet off, carefully resting the heavy piece of armor on the table in front of him and staring into its silver visor. Sighing, he ran his untorn gauntlet through his hair and leaned back into the steady chair underneath him. His eyes locked onto the sheathed kukri mag-locked onto his shoulder, recalling the events that led up to his ownership of the blade.

Despite the other spartan's seemingly gruff and confrontational attitude, Six had carried a great deal of respect for Emile. He was the one member of Noble he could relate to. He understood why Emile acted the way he did, and he knew that Emile had understood him as well. They had been alike in many ways, and had been the last ones left alive of Noble Team in the end. It had hit him hard, watching Emile die. Yet his fellow spartan had sold his life dearly. Indeed, it was a death he imagined Emile was proud of.

Six shifted his attention to his gauzed gauntlet.

The spartan did not know exactly why he had done what he did with the blade. It had just felt...right, something he thought would cater to Emile's eccentric interests. It seemed like the best way to honor his memory.

The death of his last comrade had been the pivotal moment that Six realized that his death was soon to follow that of his brothers and sister. The Autumn would never have made it without someone staying behind to man the gun, and while a marine could have done the job just as well. Six felt that he should have been the one to do it. It was exactly the type of situations spartans had been made for. Not only that, but he felt that it was his duty to stay behind. It would not have felt right, surviving where the others had not. There was nothing special about him. So why had he lived?

At the very least Jorge should have outlasted the fall of Reach. He was a Spartan-II, one of the best soldiers ever made. He had been a giant of a man, wielding a M247H as his weapon and the strongest among them. The only thing stronger than his loyalty to his friends and the UNSC was his desire to protect them. He imagined that Jorge would have liked Fox. The two would have gotten along just fine. Certainly, he would have been a better choice for the vulpine's team.

Six had personally seen Jorge go hand to hand with a hunter, cracking its breastplate and throwing the titanic creature backwards with a single fist. How? How could someone like him die?

The answer was a simple one. He had loved his home too much. Six would have been glad to stay behind and detonate the bomb in his place. But Jorge had always been the sentimental type and had felt that it was his responsibility, no his duty, to carry the sacrificial task out.

And when the big man had his mind set, there was little anyone could do to change it.

Six pulled Jorge's tags from their container and studied them.

He hoped the big man wouldn't mind if he held onto them. They were a source of inspiration and solace for Six now. They helped remind him of what he had fought for before coming here. Six did not fight for the UNSC, not on Reach. There he had fought for his team. The tags helped him to never forget Noble, Reach, the war, all of it. Despite all that had ensued, it was easy to forget. This place he found himself was so strange, so unlike any he had seen before, that it made his previous life seem like a work of fantasy.

Often times since coming here he had wondered, what purpose did he have? He could die right now, and this place would go on, unaffected by the time he spent here. Back on Reach, at least he had known everything he did was for the benefit of humanity. That had been the drive given to him by others. He did not understand non-spartans, how they gave themselves purpose. He couldn't do that, didn't know how to do that.

How different would his life have been if humanity had never encountered the Covenant? What kind of man would he have been?

Would he have still joined the military? Or would he have been just another farmer on Concord Dawn? Or maybe even a husband....a father? But such was life, there was no way to know what could have been, only what is. And he supposed there was no use dwelling on the past. As he had told Krystal, look to the horizon, not the sunset. He had lived his life that way up to this point, there was no reason to change that now.

It didn't matter what the UNSC would think of him if they somehow found out what he was doing. He had given enough of his life to them, most would argue too much. He supposed what mattered now, was what he wanted, a completely foreign concept that would take some getting used to.

So...what was it that he did want? Dare he try to live the life he could have lived? Shed his MJOLNIR and give up on the profession of a soldier? Perhaps become a husband, a father? There was nothing stopping him anymore, not even his loyalty to Fox.

Yet, as he thought about it, Six could not find the will to do such a thing. He did not have the strength to let it all go. He may be able to punch a hole into a titanium bulkhead, crush a man's skull in his fist, but he could not surrender the path he had been forced on since childhood. Truly, he was a frail individual in that regard. He took comfort in his life as a spartan, something many might think him insane for. But it was the only life he knew how to live. The instructors at Currahee certainly didn't tell him otherwise.

Perhaps he was too far gone, too broken. Perhaps there was no other future for him besides war. The only end he saw to his life was a bullet riddled corpse resting on some alien battlefield. And he was fine with that. Many spartans had met a similar fate before him.

Six had heard tale of a spartan that had escaped such a life, a women, he could not recall her name. She left the program, even became a mother, started a family. He didn't know the events behind such a decision and he doubted ONI ever truly let her go, but it showed that there was a chance, however small, that spartans had a brighter future than the darkness of war.

It was just not one meant for him.

Even if he did decide to try, to give up on it all, he remained the only human in this universe as far as he knew. And Six could not see himself with any woman, most assuredly not a cornerian one. They were aliens, and he doubted that if he did try to...start a family, however impossible that seemed to him, they were in most likely events, not genetically compatible. Even if they were, was he actually psychologically capable of raising a child? Of being a husband?

Six had never had the...urge, to lay with a women, whether for pleasure or with the intent on producing a child, the reason for this abstinence most likely being the augmentation process and a result of one of its side effects, seeing as no other spartan had ever verbally or otherwise, conveyed such desires. He had certainly heard enough from marines to know that they did not suffer from such chaste ways of thinking. Would he even be able to...go all the way, as he heard it put?

Six chuckled dryly in the silence of Fox's room, his laugh carrying a maudlin blackness.

Jorge would no doubt have a lark if he ever heard him thinking like this. And that wouldn't bother Six, to hear him one last time. He wished that the S-II was here with him now. If there was anyone who could help him with this and understand exactly what he was going through, it would be Jorge.

The chuckle replaced with a sigh, Six rested his chin on a gauntlet and rapped his gloved fingers across the table idly.

With nothing now to do, he was becoming impatient. He had given himself something to do with the process of finding the resting places of Noble Team. But he was unsure of exactly where Carter died and didn't know for certain if Jun had perished on Reach. He had done all he wanted to and now he was once more objectiveless.

As his eyes idly wandered the room, Six spied what looked like a network terminal sitting on a desk besides the vulpine's bed. Curious, he rose from his seat and made his way over, trading out for the one in front of the computer. Finding a button on the side of the strangely designed object, he pushed it. Moments later he heard a faint whirring of cooling fans as the device gave off a faint rumble. The screen flashed on and Six waited patiently for it to boot up.

Once the machine was finished processing, a password prompt presented itself. Bored, Six tried a number of codes, Fox Mccloud, variations of his name, password, password 1234, password 12345, Starfox. None of them seemed to work, and in one last ditched effort he pressed 1-9 on the keyboard and hit enter, surprised to see that his last combination worked, logging on appearing in bright blue text.

"Really...?" Six mumbled to himself with a thin-lipped grin.

Fox was not very original, but then again, sometimes nothing beat a classic.

The home screen appeared next, comprised of a gallery of photos. The first image was of a vulpine in a pair of darkened sunglasses as he held a child in his arms. Six almost assumed that it was Fox himself, but realized after a few moments that it must have been his father. The similarities were uncanny, but he looked a great deal more weathered than the vulpine he knew. It was easy for the spartan to see that his commander's father had been a mercenary. Even smiling as he held his son, Six could see the hardened edge dominating the older vulpine's muzzle. 

Looking away from the dad, he studied the younger version of Fox. It was hard to get a good lock on his age with all the fur, but he could be no older than Six had been himself during the destruction of Concord Dawn. Despite himself, the younger Fox looked...cute.

Six wondered if his own father had taken a similar picture with him, the thought dulling his mood. Turning his eyes away from the first picture he studied the next.

This one was a more recent photo, presenting a much older Fox holding hands with a female of the same species as they grinned into the camera. The vixen had remarkably peculiar ears, almost a full foot in length. But she had the same determined sheen in her eyes that he had seen in Fox himself. Judging from the image, they were either really close siblings or a couple, most likely the latter.

The spartan then scanned through the rest of the pictures, all varying of the team in one place or another, on the Great Fox or alien planets. Six suddenly got the feeling that he was intruding on his commander's personal matters. Yet he had a few things he wanted to check first.

It took Six a little while, but he finally managed to open the browser, from there he searched the net. Human, UNSC, Covenant, none of these produced any results. It seemed that he was well and truly alone.

Disappointed, Six closed the browser and shut of the terminal.

It seemed he would not find his answers this day.

Stepping away from the desk, Six began to pace about the room, brooding on what to do next. Usually, on the rare occasion he was not on assignment, he spent his time in the gymnasium of whatever base or vessel he was currently stationed, burning away his vast reserves of excess energy with the fitness equipment. Notwithstanding his already impressive physical acumen, Six followed a strictly regimented routine to keep his strength up to acceptable levels.

But, if he wanted to keep to his regimen, which had already been horribly thrown off, that would require for him to remove his armor, something he was still not comfortable doing here among this team. He was also clueless as to whether they had such a place here in this villa.

There was only one way to find out.

With great reluctance, the spartan sighed and retrieved his helmet, donning the vital piece of armor before stepping out of Fox's room.

 

*****

 

A low ambience of pleasant chatter filled the den as the team relaxed. Slippy and Fay were back on the console, playing that new construction game that so recently snatched their imagination. Falco sat near the back of the room, a holo magazine in his feathered grip, the images of blasters on the holographic cover making it quite apparent as to what he was reading.

Peppy has just returned from his errand, having been gone when they searched for Six, and was once more deep into a book. Krystal and Miyu were at their familiar lounge near the center of the room. The cat lay on the ground. Her legs hanging over the arm of the couch as she idly watched Slippy and Fay twiddle their time away, already on another building project after having completed their detailed statue of The Great Fox.

Krystal lay on the couch, trying to finish the novel she has started many days ago, her reading occasionally interrupted by the feline's feet, Miyu batting at the book playfully as the vixen did her best to ignore it.

This was the scene Six came across when he discovered the den. Having been shown around by Fox, it had taken him little time to find the place. As he watched them, the spartan could not help but feel out of place. This was not the type of environment he was familiar with. Once more, he was the one that did not belong.

As he watched them from the entryway, his previous ruminating nagged at him. Despite their professions as warriors, they were able to make time for a normal life. Then should not he, a spartan, a man who could surmount any challenge no matter how impossible, be capable of doing the same?

The answer was a firm and inconclusive maybe.

Six stood uncertainly at the cusp of the den, unable to find the willpower to cross the threshold, doubt plaguing his mind. Up until this point, the spartan had made a tremendous effort to keep his distance from them in all but the most important scenarios. It was his firm belief that it would be best to keep isolated. What reason had he to make friends with a group of aliens?

Yet, despite his obvious desire for solitude, they had made every effort to fight against his decision, whether consciously or unconsciously Six was unsure. But they had seemed to make it a mission to befriend him. The spartan had never come across individuals like them, and was still conflicted on what to do. After so long, and all they had done for him, he felt as if he owed them to at least try. But the other side of him was adamant that he continue along his current path of seclusion. A short but fierce battle of philosophies raged inside his mind, as his two personalities warred with each other.

If this had been a pre fall of Reach Six, his recluse side would have prevailed. But after all he had been through after Reach and coming here. His other more human side managed to pull a knife-edged victory.

He would try, at least this once, to see what it truly meant to be human.

His decision made, the spartan moved to place his boot across the doorway, only to find his body unresponsive. It seemed while his mind was ready to take the next step, his body was not.

'Oh well then, maybe next time.' He thought with rapid relief, turning away to return to Fox's room.

At least he could say that he tried.

"Hey Six, don't be a stranger, come on in!"

'...Shit.'

 

The spartan shifted back to the den and saw Peppy waving with the goal of drawing him inside the room. At the sound of his name, all the occupants turned to face him. The multitude of alien eyes was...disconcerting.

'...Fuck.'

 

Giving an uncertain nod, Six stepped inside, the spartan deciding to make his stand at one of the den's corners, taking solace with the presence of a barrier at his back. With his defense set up, he focused on the team.

It would appear that whatever they were doing had been put on hold at his arrival, giving him their complete and undivided attention.

"Are you alright?" The vixen that had been lying on the couch before he came in had now sat up, and was studying him with what he suspected was concern in her eyes.

Six could not help but feel slightly irritated that they had interrupted what was supposed to be a private moment. But his irritation was no lasting. He could not fault them on their obliviousness.

"I will survive." After all he had been through; Six could afford to carry a little more emotional burden, adding it to the already massive load.

It was quite clear in his curt response that he did not want to broach the topic, even if they were immensely curious. It was far too close to him. With this understanding, nothing more was asked about his health or what he had been doing.

"So...did you like your first visit to Corneria?" Slippy was the next to speak.

"It was a...curious experience. So much is different, and yet the same." Six crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

"Did the people bother you too much?" Falco wondered.

"Not as much as I would have imagined." Once he and Mira had parted ways, he had attracted a significant increase in attention. But he was quite proficient at projecting an air of intimidation when he needed to. And they were more than glad to keep their distance afterwards.

With his one sentence responses, it became readily apparent that he was not in a talkative mood. The team decided to put a hold on their inquiries, waiting until he was further well-adjusted. Slowly, the returned to what it was they were doing before he entered, the spartan content in watching them from his lonesome position at the back of the large room.

In the face of his usual self, Six could not help but watch them with envious interest. For once in his life, he wished that he was capable of acting normal. He studied their interactions, observing a tightknit bond that could rival that of Noble, at least in their own way. It was apparent that they had experienced and endured many trials together, and become stronger for it. They acted as if they were a family, something he had witnessed in other spartan teams, and what he had been previously incapable of doing.

Watching them soon brought up unwelcomed thoughts on what could have been so Six retreated into the depths of his mind, something all spartan's were skilled in doing.

In his trance like state of semi-consciousness, Six remained unaware of the eyes studying him.

Krystal peeked up from her book, the vixen's emerald irises watching the spartan in keen interest as he leaned against the far wall. Unlike the others, she had sensed his reluctance to enter the room long before Peppy had noticed him. But she had decided to let him be, wanting to give him space after watch she had seen earlier. Unlike Miyu, she was patient enough to wait, knowing that he would speak when he was ready to do so. She had born silent witness to his internal struggle as Six tried to cope. He had been doing well when he first entered.

But it seemed he had hit a roadblock in his determination. All he needed was a little coaxing. Tapping into a share of her powers the vixen had not used in a long time, she concentrated on the reclusive warrior.

 

The vixen giggled in quiet mirth as the spartan flinched, his helmet scanning the room to find the source of the voice suddenly manifesting inside his head. Krystal was not worried of repercussions for this action, she knew now that he would not hurt her or the others, even if he felt like it. The spartan was too good of a man to do such a thing, whether he knew that or not.

 

The familiarity of the feminine voice slowly dawned on him and the spartan's visor turned until its gaze was locked on her.

 

She could hear the confusion in his response. But what surprised her most, was that his voice did not sound the same. It was not the coarse speech she had grown so used to, his tone was still deep, but far softer, almost music to her spiritual ears.

She asked curiously.

_He confessed. The spartan suspected it was because his voice had changed after the augmentation procedure, irreparably damaged by the operation. Perhaps this strange form of cerebral communication used what he would have sounded like. Not that he cared, what surprised him more was the method in which she was speaking to him._

____

__

__He could hear her giggle inside his mind._ _

__It was an otherworldly experience to say the least._ _

__Six could not help but wonder at the military applications of such a means of communication. It would have increased the effectiveness of stealth operations immensely and the possibilities for further synchronicity with spartan teams was incalculable._ _

_____ _

___ _

___ _

___The question had been on her mind for quite some time. She could feel that Six had little desire to answer, and she was afraid that he would soon shut her out. She beseeched him earnestly._ _ _

___Six went quiet for a short time, the vixen able to feel the previous conflict resurfacing with an ardent fury. _He demanded with gentle force.__ _ _

____The vixen thought it over. Could she see him, playing games with Slippy and Fay, relaxing in conversation with Peppy, chatting happily with Falco about weapons...sitting on the couch with her?_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____He answered eagerly. Krystal had become one of the only ones on this team he felt who's opinion was valuable, her and Fox._ _ _ _

____It pained her to be so brutally honest. But if he was going to have any chance to change, someone had to tell him._ _ _ _

____She could feel his tumultuous emotions reach a whirlwind crescendo, the flames of his thoughts blazing rampantly, the vixen retreated a distance from his mind and waited the length of time it took for the spiritual fires to settle. She watched, in curious wonder, as the intensity ceased all at once, cooled until she could feel a minuscule lump of his soul break away, a diminutive piece of sparkling silver that shone faintly in the darkness of his heart._ _ _ _

____That's when she realized, she had unwittingly fractured him even further then he already was._ _ _ _

____She inquired softly, slipping back into his thoughts._ _ _ _

____His response was weak. Having nothing of the great strength and resilience she had seen in him before. The spartan was visibly shaken, his arms had dropped to his sides and she knew the only thing keeping him standing was the wall against which he leaned._ _ _ _

____Krystal was frightened. The vixen had never heard him so uncertain, so full of fear and doubt. She had not known that such a fragile individual existed inside the spartan's core. But, she could not afford to be nervous. Six was counting on her response. Despite his feelings of despair, she could not help but feel a laugh surface._ _ _ _

____She giggled reproachfully. She explained warmly, recalling the moment that he had held her paw and comforted her. That is when she had known that he cared about them, cared about her._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____He took a brief time to dwell on her thoughts before returning his arms to his chest and standing up from the wall._ _ _ _

____He seemed much more confident, somewhat back to his old self._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____That sounded like the Six she knew._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____The vixen's emotions swelled and she could not help but grin, feeling suddenly as if she did not need her arwing to fly._ _ _ _

____ _ _

_____He nodded once, taking a step forwards and leaving the wall and his past behind him._ _ _ _ _

_____It was time to be more than just a spartan._ _ _ _ _

_____It was time to be human._ _ _ _ _


	12. A Home Cooked Meal

Chapter 11: A Home Cooked Meal

Trying to be human was harder than Six expected, and he had expected it to be very, very hard. He was still recovering from his inner struggle. Hearing Krystal's unintentional ultimatum had been the straw to break the camel's back. The vixen's words rang uncomfortably true in his mind. The only future he had was one where he let go of his past. And that was a difficult thing to ask of him. It would mean he would have to turn away from his remaining loyalty to the UNSC...to humanity, away from the spartan program and all he had done for the Office of Naval Intelligence over the years.

She was asking him to abandon his previous life in its entirety. And for a moment, he had lost himself. It was too much for Six to process, even with his cerebral augmentation. It was a colossal demand for one such as him and he was unsure if he was capable of doing as she requested. But, if he was to ever have a hope of pulling away from his innumerable demons. It was something that needed to be done, no matter how painful or impossible it seemed.

It would take time, perhaps the rest of his life, but he hoped to regain his absent humanity.

But first he would have to actually try.

And therein lay the problem.

He could not even begin to guess as to what the first step would be. There was hardly a manual on something like this. Six decided to treat this like a combat operation, finding comfort in a familiar analogy.

The spartan would have to perform a reconnaissance run.

He looked about the room, scanning it to see if there was anything he could do. His perusing was drawn to the large screen dominating the center of the room, the one that Fay and Slippy were plopped in front of. Curious as to what they were doing, Six stepped over and watched them.

It appeared they were using an emulator of some kind, although it was an inferior model to that of the training simulators at Currahee. The graphical engine seemed to only function at a 16-bit level. Both canine and amphibian were working on some sort of building project. In the distance of the strange virtual world, he could see an effigy of The Great Fox, almost a life-size replica of the enormous ship. Six could not help but wonder the amount of time it must have taken to reproduce it.

Perhaps sensing the looming spartan behind them, Slippy was the first to notice Six, not needing to see the spartan's face to know that he must have been curious about the game.

"Do you wanna jump in?"

Hearing the toad address him, the spartan faced the amphibian, responding uncertainly. "It would probably be for the best if I just watched." Six was not sure how he would even go about playing the game.

"Come on it's easy, here." Slippy leaned towards the base of the entertainment system and pulled out a spare controller, holding it out for the spartan to take.

Six eyed the odd device doubtfully before taking it in his tentative grasp, the controller practically buried in his large gauntlets. The spartan rotated it in his grip and tried to puzzle out how to properly hold the foreign object. Once he had a feel for it, he looked back to Slippy for guidance.

The toad was greatly amused at Six's cluelessness at such a simple thing as holding a controller, yet it also was a source of sadness for him, realizing that there was a reason the spartan acted so bewildered.

Slippy patiently instructed Six on how to activate the controller and helped the spartan get into the game, it taking longer than he would have expected, almost a full ten minutes. But soon a third window on the television appeared, announcing the spartan's connection to the game.

Pressing the start button as instructed, Six observed as a wheel of avatars appeared, the toad urging him to select one, explaining that it would be his character in the game. Remembering that the thumbsticks and directional pad were for movement from his brief tutorial, Six scrolled through the vast collection.

Among the hundreds of different species, one player model attracted his attention, leaping out from the masses. A black wolf with crimson eyes. Six had always felt a kinship to the lupines he had heard of, pack hunters and tenacious survivers in most any conditions. Indeed, some of the marines he had met had whispered amongst themselves, Six picking up the words lone wolf directed at him often. The eyes were the deciding factor for him, matching his altered irises.

Pressing the green button, his avatar was selected and the screen flickered, dropping his character into a blocky and verdant field of grass. Yet he was lost again, unknowing of the next steps to take. This simulator had arisen his interest, and Six was somewhat keen to discover what it was all about.

"What...what do I do now?" He asked, turning to Slippy.

Surprisingly enough, it was Fay who answered, the canine seemingly not as intimidated by him anymore.

Perhaps his plan was working?

"Go punch a tree." She instructed absentmindedly, absorbed in her own projects. The canine's focused enthusiasm was obvious in the pink tongue sticking out of her pursed lips, her paws manipulating her controller in such a way that made Six envious.

"Punch...a tree?" He repeated skeptically, eyeing the terribly rendered arboreal vegetation near his wolven avatar.

"Yeah dude, just hit it!" She replied adamantly.

Still not quite convinced, he walked his character over and pressed the right trigger, watching as the 16-bit fist crashed against the wood. Then he stopped, waiting for what must come next and growing perplexed as nothing new occurred.

"Nothing happened." He muttered in sullen confusion, eyeing his controller and wondering if it was perhaps malfunctioning.

Fay sighed. "Keep hitting it, Six. You have to keep hitting it."

"Oh...." Six nodded in slight humiliation. He had never been so thoroughly bested by electronical devices. Doing as instructed, he made his character punch the tree repeatedly, rewarded soon after when a piece of it broke and fell to the ground, seemingly sucked into his avatar by some mysterious force. The item bar at the bottom of his screen plinked with the addition of its first object, a block of wood.

Six grinned at his innocently meager success.

Now he was starting to get the hang of this...game.

"What do I do know?" He wondered, turning to Slippy.

*****

For once in his life, Six lost track of time, captivated by this thing Slippy called a video game. The amphibian tried to teach him all the aspects of the game, but soon lost the spartan after introducing the combat mechanics. He much preferred slaughtering everything in the game with the weapons he created then to what he as considered tedious and unimportant as the building features. That was something he would leave to their creative minds.

It was fascinating to be able to fight without the promise of real physical harm, even the training exercises at Currahee had been not free of pain, the instructors sometimes using rubber bullets or even live rounds. It was likewise somewhat of a novelty to not have to do anything but sit and use his hands, the spartan long ago choosing to seat himself beside Slippy and Fay.

Six was unware of the audience he had attracted, Krystal and Miyu watching the spartan's almost childlike wonder as he had his first experience with being ordinary. The sight was enough to give them perpetual grins as they watched him intently, the spartan's wolf avatar cleaving its way through hordes of spiders and dog skeletons, the women able to pick up the faint chuckling he let slip on occasion.

But it was not to last forever. The den inevitably began to darken as the sun commenced its eternal descent across Corneria's soft blue skies. Eventually it disappeared behind the mountains and Falco flicked the lights on. The hour was late, and plans were soon to be made for the evening's meal. Dinner was a great affair at the Starfox villa, when the team all gathered together to share fun times and good food.

"Alright Six, it's time to call it quits for today." Slippy yawned, shutting off the game and standing up, Fay following suit.

The spartan nodded slowly, returning the controller to where Slippy had retrieved it and trying not to feel disappointment. It had been such a unique experience that he could not help but feel somewhat saddened at its end.

"Don't worry, we can play again tomorrow." Fay pipped in cheerfully, perhaps sensing the spartan's downcast thoughts.

The promise of being able to play again was enough to banish his gloom. If this was an example of being normal, he could see what he had been missing out for so long. A sudden burst of anger swelled inside him.

This is what ONI had taken from him, this feeling of contentment and happiness that had been absent from his life for so long? They had known what they were robbing him and the other children of, and they had been blind to it, lured by promises of vengeance. Six was not sure whether he would have taken vengeance over this, not after having a taste of tangible life.

No longer was he so certain that it had been worth the sacrifice. But...as he thought of Noble Team and everything he had done since becoming a spartan, he realized that he would not change what had happened. Better him than some other poor unfortunate soul.

"Damn, I could go for some food about now." Falco declared, slapping his stomach hungrily.

"Indeed, I believe it is Krystal's turn tonight, isn't it?" Peppy wondered, turning to the vixen.

The team had a rotational shift when it came to dinner, each member having a certain day as head chef, with today being hers.

"Correct, I just hope Fox kept the villa stocked while we were gone." The vixen replied. Among many things, she enjoyed cooking for her friends, finding happiness in watching them eat what she created.

"Well, there's no time like the present. Let's get this gravy train moving, woo woo!" Falco pumped a feathered fist in the air and eagerly headed towards the kitchen.

Hearing that food was soon to come, Six's stomach gave an uncharacteristic rumble. The spartan had not eaten since before they landed on Zoness. Despite his superhuman fortitude, he still had to tend to his bodily needs. And even before the battle he had eaten sparingly, not wanting to exhaust the meager supply of MREs he had stored inside the sabre.

With his supplies at the moment out of reach, he supposed it was to be another night of hunger and moved to return to Fox's room.

Krystal, ever having Six on her mind, turned to the spartan. The vixen had an unusual desire to hopefully impress him with her culinary talents. It had also crossed her mind that this might her chance to finally get him to reveal himself, to at last see what he looked like underneath that helmet, the tempting prospect virtually made her absolutely giddy with excitement.

Yet, she saw that he was already gone from the room. So, with a quick apology, she scurried into the hallway, already knowing where she would find him.

*****

Six sat upon Fox's bed, wondering if he should try and get some rest. It would be a good time as any to try and catch up on some of the sleep he had missed, and the opportunity to use a real bed was one he did not feel like skipping out on. He decided to catch his next meal when they returned to the Great Fox, whenever that would be.

Reaching for his helmet, Six started the process of removing his armor when there was a soft but urgent knock on the door.

Sighing, Six twisted his half-removed helm back on and stood up from the bed, crossing the chamber to the door and opening it to find the cerulean vixen gazing up at him.

"Yes?" The spartan enquired, trying with some measure of success to mask the irritation in his voice. He could not explain it, but Six could no longer bring himself to use any form of open hostility against her.

"Hey, Six, aren't you going to eat with us?" She asked inquisitively. "I was going to cook." She added expectantly, as if that piece of specific information would sway him.

Six thought it over. If he did in fact eat with them, he would have to reveal himself, a scenario he had been avidly avoiding. He was just starting to get comfortable with these cornerians, and he was afraid that things would change once that happened. And he did not want to undo any progress he had at last been able to make.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." He waived her off as politely as he could, moving to shut the door.

But he was startled when the vixen caught the closing door with her paw, poking her nose into the room.

"You can't hide behind your mask forever!" She claimed determinedly, somehow as always managing to cut to the heart of his problems. The vixen's single-minded resolve stuck him acutely. Once more it was her mysteriously exact words that made him think.

What she said was true, he could not hide himself forever, and trying to do so would not gain Six any favors, with himself or anyone else. But, deep down, he knew why he was afraid to show his face.

He feared that they would be repulsed by him. That she would be repulsed by him. What once would not have mattered to the spartan in the slightest, now greatly did so.

"Perhaps...." He conceded. "....But today will not be the day that changes." Six applied a small amount of force to the wooden door.

Unable to match his strength, Krystal was either forced to let him close it in her muzzle and in doing so unwittingly start the return to his old ways, or she could do something...drastic.

Before he could completely shut the door, she forced herself into the rapidly narrowing space, banking on the assumption that he would not close it with her in the way...or at least so she hoped.

Upon seeing the vixen physically impede his efforts, Six sighed in annoyance. Nevertheless, he ceased trying to close the door and now studied her underneath his helm, wondering what exactly it was with non-spartans and being a pain in his side.

"What are you doing?" He demanded in weary frustration, his patience having run thin. There was only so much a spartan could do before he became violent.

"Helping you." Krystal firmly replied, matching his hidden glare with one of her own. "When is the last time you ate?" She probed with a suspicious twist to her eyes.

"Before Zoness." He grunted impatiently. "Now, can you let me be?"

Krystal was shocked, that was almost five days ago! 

"No." She obstinately refused. "You need to eat something."

At that Six growled quietly. How dare she treat him like an adolescent! He was a goddamn spartan, not a sniveling infant.

"Do not propose to treat me like a child!" He snarled, his grip tightening on the door, the wood splintering slightly underneath his constricted grip. Six was unable to wholly control his immense strength. Yet the spartan could not completely place where this well of anger had originated from. He was usually far more tolerant of the team and her by extension. After all, he could have just ignored her.

Krystal, unintimidated by his ire, crossed her arms in displeasure as her tail lashed behind the vixen in anger all her own, thumping silently against the door.

"Then do not act like on!" She countered boldly, unwilling to back down. While the spartan's anger was a result of whatever foolish need for solitude he held, Krystal's stemmed of his pointless stubborn tantrum. She was fully aware of his past and the unspeakable conditioning he had endured at the hands of the military he served. He had told her much about that. But in her eyes it was not enough to warrant such a tenacious desire to exclude himself from everything life had to offer. There was more to living then what Six was content with doing, and she wanted to show him that. So if hairs had to be ruffled and a tooth or two had to be pulled, she was willing to do that to achieve her ends. 

In the spartan's opinion, if anyone here was acting like a child, it was her. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. She was the one pressing the matter. Could she not see that he just wanted to be let alone?

"Why do you insist on the course of action?" He muttered dourly, his anger slipping away despite his best efforts to keep a firm grasp on it. Six could not stay mad at her, as exasperating as that was for him to realize. Turning his back to her with a sigh, he stepped from the door and retreated to the small table in the room, taking one of the seats with a defeated sigh.

Disconcerted by his sudden shift in emotions, Krystal stood hesitantly in the doorway, now uncertain if she should enter or walk away. But, she could not just abandon him now. Taking a calming breath to affirm her resolve, the vixen passed the threshold and slowly approached him, feeling as if she was taking her first steps into the den of a fiery dragon.

Unhurriedly, she pulled out a chair from across him and took it, meeting the spartan's unseen gaze.

"Why won't you show us what's behind that mask?" She asked softly, placing a paw on the spartan's gauntlet in an attempt to comfort him, as he had done once before for her.

"You may not like what you see." He quietly cautioned her, his counsel having more than one connotation. She might not like what she found if she kept digging. There were still many secrets he carried, of previous dark deeds committed. Six had been an ONI assassin for a long time, responsible his fair share of illicit acts.

The blood of more than mere men stained his hands.

While he still held a want to be human, he could not forget what he had done. If they continued to press him, they might find that there was more to the spartan than they had expected, none of it good.

"I promise you. No matter what you look like I'll still be your friend. Unless of course, you're some kind of eight eyed monster with feelers and talons..." She joked with a quiet giggle, her laughter drying up like a puddle under the sun when the spartan gave no response, staring at her silently.

"Uh...you aren't...are you?" She asked apprehensively.

"...No."

"Well then there's nothing to be afraid about." She tittered nervously.

'It is not I who might be afraid.' Six thought with a sigh as he reached for the bottom of his helmet. It was folly to assume he could hide under his mask forever, after all. In the end, it was just another piece of steel. If he was truly to change, he had to realize that he was more than the sum of his armor.

With great care and precision, the spartan ran his gloved fingers underneath the lip of his helm, tracing along the titanium alloy until he came across one of the micro sockets that conjoined his suit with the pressure seal insulating the cusp of his helm. In a smooth well-rehearsed motion, he disengaged the lock and twisted it to the side, breaking the powerful seal with the faint hiss of pressurized air.

*****

Krystal observed in eager fascination as the spartan began to remove his helmet, the vixen curious as to what she would see. With rapidly rising interest, she watched as he slowly started to lift the mask that he had been hiding behind since the day she met him. As she did, she could not help but feel as if she had finally managed to break through another significant barrier in their affiliation with one another.

Then, with little flair or showmanship, Six revealed his face, the first thing grabbing her attention being his eyes.

They were bright crimson, like that of a freshly bloomed rose. The vixen could tell a lot about a person by their eyes, and she knew at that instant...Six was a killer. He had that cold and unfeeling gaze she had seen many times before in the eyes of a few soldiers in the CDF, ones that had seen too much. She had already known that much about him, but to finally be able to see it in his eyes was another thing entirely. Despite this, she could perceive more than that. Those blood red irises. They had not always been his. Looking harder, Krystal could see flecks of shining sapphire speckled throughout. She did not know how she knew that they had once been blue, it could be just a thing that humans had. But deep down, she could feel that the red she saw in him now had not always been there.

Despite the darkness she saw inside, she could also see the same things she had sensed in him, compassion, kindness....even hope. It was hard to detect, but it was there, just past that crimson glint. You just had to look hard enough.

As she studied his eyes, the vixen was drawn to the deep scar marring the left side of his face. It would appear that humans did not have fur, as most of the races in Lylat did, conversely making any wounds far more visible.

Krystal had the sudden impulse to trace the mark in his flesh with a padded digit, barely managing to subdue it upon realization. Instead the vixen wondered how he had earned that scar, and the other she now saw carving its way across the right side of the spartan's head, all the way down to his cheek.

As she had suspected he did not have a muzzle like she did, knowing it would not have fit inside the helmet he wore. Instead, humans had flat, furless faces, much like the simians of Venom, not that she would ever willingly compare him to those beasts.

Although, she noticed that humans did have hair, Six's head topped with a short and rough mane of black, its color matching the thin layer across his cheeks. If she did not know better she would have thought he trimmed his hair with a serrated blade.

Lacking a muzzle, Six had a roughly squared jaw and high cheekbones. His skin was pale, almost alabaster in coloration, and since he was the first and most likely only human she had the chance to meet, she was not sure if it was naturally or unnaturally so.

The vixen could not help but conclude that he was in fact, rather handsome in an exotic and robust way. She could see a lot of Six's personality in his expression, the hard edged lines of his cheeks, the coldness in his eyes, and the almost feral style to his hair. It spoke well to the man she had come to know. His features gave him an air of imperiousness and alien splendor, a god of ancient legend, one of war and strife. 

"Have you finished?" Six inquired in a mildly amused growl. He had watched the vixen as she ogled him for some time. It had been both unsettling and yet...fascinating. She had not looked at him as he had suspected, there was no fear or disgust, only curiosity and interest. And he did not know what to take from that information.

Krystal was stricken out of her musing by his question. As she recognized that she had been openly staring at him for the past few minutes, she blushed heavily.

"My apologies..." She responded in a flustered murmurer, lowering her muzzle abashedly. The vixen did not know why, but she was now all riled up, finding a hard time piecing together her train of thought, her attempts interrupted by images of his ruby red eyes and finely sculpted features. He was indeed different from any male she had ever met before.

Six did not forgive her, for there was nothing to forgive. He would do well not to forget that he was just as alien to them as they were to him. If anything, he was grateful that things were going so well. He had felt sure that his eyes would have scared her off. They were nothing like hers, those emerald orbs so full of empathy and understanding. She was innocent...pure, much like the child he had met before. The spartan had never met such a person like her among his fellow humans, at no fault of their own. The war had stolen more than just his virtue. Every soldier he had met, regardless of age, had carried that same cold cynical burden, some were just better at masking it then others. Fighting against extinction tended to change people.

It was his hope that she would never change. It was rare for someone of her age to still have her purity. And at that moment, he made a promise to himself. Six would do his best to protect Krystal, even at the cost of his own life. For if he could save even just one innocent and pure soul, then he could die knowing that he made a difference, no longer caring if it was in this world or his own.

"Six..."

"Hmm...?" The spartan murmured, cast out of his thoughts by the sound of her voice.

"So....will you dine with us tonight?" She inquired. Krystal had seen the somewhat unfocused look in his eyes and knew that he had been in deep thought, inexplicably glad that she was now able to see what he looked like when he was so. Though this time she had not been able to sense what it was his thoughts were directed to. 

The spartan considered her question once more. While he would never openly admit to her or himself, he was particularly hungry. And if she had seen his face, it mattered little now if the others did as well. Besides, he was curious if the vixen was as good of a cook as she was a pilot. If so, it would beat the hell out of an army ration.

"I will." He decided.

After all, every journey begins with a single step.

"Really...?" The vixen exclaimed in joyful excitement, greatly pleased that he had decided to do so. It was a big moment for the spartan, whether he knew it or not, and it showed that there was indeed hope for him, something that made her incredibly happy. "That's great! Come on, I'm sure the others are getting hungry by now and I want to get started as soon as possible. It's already pretty late after all."

Once more the vixen grabbed his forearm, animatedly trying to lead him out the room. This time though, he did not follow her and she felt her paw tug against his unmoving limb.

"Huh...what's wrong?" She wondered with a pout to her lips when he did not stand up, worried that he might be changing his mind.

"I need some time first. It would not do to eat in this." He gestured down to his armor.

In all honesty, wearing his armor in this villa was somewhat of an inconvenience. His MJOLNIR added several inches to his already extensive height, and made it a tedious process to maneuver about. It was fine aboard The Great Fox, with the ship's wide corridors. However, this place was not as accepting of an individual of his dimensions. Things would be simplified if he removed the thick plates of his suit. He was now certain that he could trust them enough to not have to wear his armor constantly. Moreover, Six had worked in such conditions before, when wearing a full suit of MJOLNIR was not advisable. Such situations had been common in his more clandestine operations in the outer colonies. He would just treat this situation in a similar fashion. It would make things easier to bear.

"Right, of course, take your time. I can start things while you do that." She nodded, happy that he had not backed out. "See you soon!" The vixen slipped out of the room happily humming to herself, tail wagging with unabashed glee.

Six shook his head in wonder as he watched her leave, unable to figure out why she was so attached to him. What had she to gain from all of this? She must have known by this point that he considered her somewhat of a friend, especially since he had suffered her irritating qualities without his usual unpleasant responses. There was no need to take such further steps, at least no reason that he could see.

What was Krystal's end game? What had she to gain from all of this?

Though....

It was nice to have someone that cared enough to go the extra length, she was the first person he had met besides Fox to do so. For now he would not look too far into this and satisfy himself with being content.

'I will never understand her.' He decided with an inward chuckle, moving to retrieve the miniature CRADLE kit he had stored in a container on his armor. He would have to try and expedite the process if he wanted to finish in a reasonable amount of time. Deep in thought, he inserted the first tool into one of the lower sockets of his breastplate.

*****

Krystal could not rationally explain her fantastically good mood. At the moment, things could not be going better. The war would soon be over, and Six was starting to open up to her even more. Before long, he might just be like everyone else!

It was a nice thought, but she was not sure if it would be so. She was making significant strides in their friendship. However, she sensed that there was still a long road ahead. There was a substantial amount of mental trauma to undo, but she had hope. Six would change, he had to.

The vixen recalled their first meeting with inwardly aimed amusement, how she had loathed his seemingly excessive stoicism and confrontational attitude. Back then he had been a repugnant brute and a man she had started to dislike. But, they had been through a great deal in a short time. She learned why he acted the way he did and discovered that he was not the callous person she had first made him out to be. The only thing that still worried her was his lack of self-worth. It troubled her that he appeared so keen to throw his own life away and held little stock in his survival. Once more she cursed the people that had done this to him, made him think in such a way.

And when she saw him at the crater....

Krystal had realized, no matter how hard he attempted to keep it hidden, Six was in a great deal of pain. She still did not know much about his personal life, the battles he fought, the friends he lost and she was still ignorant about this foe the Covenant he so often spoke of. Yet, from the tone of voice he associated with them and the story he had told, she knew they were a terrible enemy, perhaps worse than Venom. All they wanted was control of the Lylat System. The Covenant desired the complete and total genocide of his people. And she could only wonder why.

Now she had at last seen his face, saw the scars he bore, both inside and out. Krystal wanted to see more of that kindness and compassion he kept locked away. That cold gaze did not suit him, not anymore. She decided to make it a goal to draw such emotions out of him. Krystal could change him, she knew it.

He had showed her that he was capable of empathy, when he had comforted her and saved Miyu. Before they had come back to Corneria, Krystal had visited the feline in the Infirmary. And the cat had told her of what she had learned of him, and how he had saved her. She spoke of the fury he had entered moments after Miyu had been injured, how he had raged and fell upon the Chimera violently. And while it had not been easily apparent, Miyu had known that he had been deeply worried for her.

It seemed that the human supersoldier cared about them, both her and Miyu, she just wondered how much. True, she cared for him as well, perhaps more than any male she had met before, even Fox.

And even though Six did not show as much care or thought into her wellbeing, Krystal just felt that he had a special place in his heart for her, even if he did not realize it. After all, he had confided in her, shared his secrets. And just a few moments ago he had shown her his true self, she knowing that it was not an easy decision for him to make. If he was willing to go to such great extents for the vixen, he had to harbor some fondness for her in his heart.

And that knowledge made her inordinately happy.

Humming softly, Krystal made her way to the kitchen. If Six was intending to eat with them, she was hoping to impress. He had probably eaten military rations his whole life, and she was going to show him what he had been missing out on.

Once her clawed toes clattered against tiled flooring, she knew she had found her destination. As she entered the kitchenette, she glanced towards the dining room connected to it, the team already sitting around the table eagerly.

Krystal took a certain pride in her gourmet skills. Her mother had taught her quite a few recipes back when she had been a kit, and cooking was a way for the vixen to remember her. While her family had the palace staff, sometimes her mother preferred to make her own meals, and father had ever been the fan.

Such memories brought mistiness to her eyes, but she was not sad. Those had been wonderful times, and she was glad she remembered.

The vixen dismissed her recollections, wondering what type of meal would appeal to Six's interests. Perhaps something spicy? Or maybe she should make something savory, with a dash of creaminess...like Carobollen. Yes, that sounded perfect.

She was sure he would like it.

But first, she would get some help and explain to the team so they would not make a scene when Six walked in. Krystal wanted everything to go perfectly, and if they ruined this...she would not be happy.

*****

Six reverently placed the last section of his MJOLNIR on the ground beside the rest, leaving the spartan clad in only his bodysuit. For the first time it bothered him that he did not possess an off-duty uniform. There was an extra one in the sabre's emergency kit, but it was not the right size to fit. Perhaps he would need the currency he had first been offered, just so he could see about some custom order clothes. But for now he would have to make do.

Six glanced down at his frame uncertainly, the bodysuit was not exactly ideal. The way it was designed did not have much decency in mind. While not too lurid, it was not what one would call decent. Still, it was preferable to walking around naked so he would just have to hope it did not make his allies too uncomfortable.

But, he supposed that's what happened when one did not own clothing of any sort. Gathering his determination, Six departed the vulpine's room into the hallway.

The spartan was impressed by Fox, his comparison to Carter had been an apt one. While still a little naïve and unsure of his role as commander, Six could see great potential inside him. He had the capability to become an excellent leader and might have made for a suitable spartan candidate if he had been human. Not that Six would wish such a life on his comrade. In time, Fox would be someone that anyone would gladly follow. Now though, he had his hands, or rather paws full with his current team.

Navigating the pathways of the large villa, Six neared the kitchen. That was one thing he did not understand however. Perhaps it was just because of the life he had lived, but Six found this whole place to be exorbitant. They would have been perfectly fine in a somewhat smaller building. But, he supposed if this is what they wanted there was no reason for him to complain.

But the least they could have had is a guest room. While used to bunking with other spartans and even marines during long stints in the field. The one thing Six allowed himself some indulgence was his privacy. But it was acceptable, it was Fox after all. He could permit his commander some room for non-spartan error.

Six soon detected a pleasing scent wafting along the hallway. One of several of his augmentations enhanced his olfactory receptors to a point that surpassed normal humans and even canines.

So he was easily able to tell that whatever it was, it smelled fantastic. The spartan's gut grumbled loudly in the quiet hall, calling out for whatever remarkable scent it had picked up. While his brain remained that of a spartan, his stomach was still in all accounts human.

Wanting to put an image to the tantalizing aroma, Six increased his pace by a small margin, arriving at the kitchen in moments and simultaneously uncovering the source of the savory fragrance.

Krystal, she was cooking over what looked like a regular stove, the kind he had seen in battles inside civilian homes in a few of his broad ranging campaigns. The vixen hummed softly to herself as she nursed a large fry pan with a wooden spatula, the origin of the mouthwatering aroma being the cast iron pan.

Beside her on a conjoined burner was a large pot that bubbled and steamed. He did not know what the contents were, but they smelled just as good as what was in the pan. This was something of a novelty for him. The last home cooked meal he had was almost literally a lifetime ago, which he did not remember to begin with.

Confused and plagued by conflicting emotions of times long past, Six stood frozen in the doorway. The scent of the meal was starting to bring old memories to the fore of his thoughts, ones he had previously thought lost.

He had smelled this before, in a time when he had still been a child and oblivious of the events that would soon alter his life forever. At that moment he had a fleeting recollection of his mother, yet her face remained shrouded, something that frustrated him to no end.

Krystal glanced over her shoulder as she cooked, and saw the spartan standing in the threshold.

"Ah, Six, you're here!" She exclaimed in excitement, yet as she took in the spartan's state of partial undress, her eyes widened and she blushed deeply. Without his armor's plating, there was far more of his herculean physique on display and even she could not ignore his striking figure. Six lived the life a warrior, and just as he excelled in combat, so too did he excel in physical form. The vixen forced herself to shift her gaze to his face, which was little better.

"I-I'm almost f-finished." She stuttered awkwardly, gesturing towards the dining room. "W-why don't you go t-take a seat with the others."

Nodding uncertainly, he passed through the kitchen and entered the dining room.

As he left, Krystal did her best to shake away images of his broad shoulders and chiseled muscles, further mortified to feel a stirring between her thighs. Whipping her muzzle back and forth, she banished such scandalous thoughts and focused on her task.

Still....he was rather handsome.

*****

Stepping into the dining room, Six was greeted to a powerful feeling of discomfort as several pairs of eyes bored into him. This was the first time that they saw his face, and they were just about as subtle as Krystal had been.

The look he was receiving from Miyu was particularly disconcerting. The feline almost looked...hungry. And he was not sure it was because of their impending meal.

"Why don't you sit down right here big guy?" The feline suggested with a multifarious smirk, gesturing for him to take the seat beside her. Seeing as he had no real preference for the arrangement, he decided to take her offer, uneasily setting himself down on the wooden chair. The only saving grace from this whole affair was that he could now sit down in a chair without the threat of it collapsing underneath him. But that offered him little comfort as he felt something long and fuzzy as it laid itself on his thigh.

Six glanced down in alarm and saw a brown and black speckled appendage slither back and forth along his thigh, like a writhing snake.

It was...unnerving.

"I gotta say. You don't look like I thought you would." Miyu spoke boldly as she scrutinized his furless features.

"How...so?" He questioned with a sense of foreboding, certain that he would not enjoy the answer.

"I like this more." She replied vaguely, her tail still clinging to him.

He stood correct. Her answer was not enjoyable.

"So...where'd the scar come from?"

Six was surprised to feel relief when Falco spoke next, the spartan now able to focus on something else.

"Which one?"

"The one right here..." The avian mimed a line alongside the right side of his head.

Despite the invasive premise of the question, it set him more at ease. It was better to talk on his past conflicts then dwell on what exactly the feline was doing beside him. The faint rumbling slipping from her bosom was unusual.

Was she purring?

"Close contact with an energy sword." He explained, doing his best to ignore the feline at his side.

"Energy sword?" Falco repeated skeptically. "What the heck is that?"

"Sangheili close combat weapon, created using partially ionized electron gases and molded into blades by advanced magnetic-field generators." That at least, is what UNSC scientists had observed from those dreaded weapons.

"Okay...so what's a sangli?" The bird inquired with a rise in interest as he stumbled over the foreign word.

"Sangheili," Six corrected him, "are the backbone of the Covenant military arm. They are force commanders and warriors without peer. Furthermore, they are directly responsible for a majority of human casualties in most groundside engagements. The standard sangheili warrior stands at approximately seven to eight feet on cloven hooves and digitigrade legs. Heavily muscled and highly trained, most are the equivalent of a spartan on the field."

"They sound like a nasty bunch." If each one was as strong as Six...Falco did not like the sound of that.

"Indeed..." Six nodded. "Each sangheili warrior wields a varying arsenal of Covenant weaponry, from plasma rifles to fuel rod cannons. One of the highest tiers of these soldiers is the sangheili zealot, who is a master of their favored armaments, the energy sword."

"And one of them gave you that horrid scar?" Fay rightly supposed.

"Correct. The surviving members of Noble and I were assisting UNSC army personnel with the evacuation of New Alexandria when we encountered a trio of zealots."

Six recalled the battle vividly. The three sangheili warriors had jumped down from an overhanging balcony, engaging Noble's 4 and 1. The last zealot set his sights on Six and the spartan had moved to engage. The battle had been brutal and short, the sangheili assaulting him with a flurry of deft sword strokes. During the melee, the zealot's fist had knocked his helmet off and the elite pounced on him, intending to drive the energy blade's prongs into his exposed throat. Grabbing the alien's wrist, he was able to swiftly deflect the blade into the concrete to the side, but not without it slicing across his cheek. Before it could strike again, he drove a fist into its gut with enough force to break its impressive shields and forced the alien warrior to the ground, driving his combat knife into its shoulder and sawing the serrated weapon across its throat.

"I assume you got the guy, right?" Falco anticipated.

"That I did."

"What about the other scar?" Miyu entered the conversation with a curious meow.

"That...is an altogether different story." Six replied, recalling the boarding action with distaste. The spartan held a deep seeded hatred for the insurrection. Most of this might have been because he had been taught by the UNSC to do so. But this was not the case. Six had seen what they were capable of, and they were little more than terrorists, worse in his opinion. Even after the Covenant began their genocidal campaign, the insurrection did not cease their activities, rather they upped the ante, increasing attacks and blaming the UNSC for humanity's woes. Those loathsome traitors had decided to instead capitalize on the suffering of their people instead of putting their own interests aside for the common good. For that alone they were irredeemable and only their deaths would satisfy him.

"That is a tale I will not tell, for it would leave me with an unsavory taste in my mouth. There are better things to speak of. I am curious. Tell me, how did this team get its feet off the ground?" Six was interest to hear how such a strange group had originated. He of course knew that Fox's father had been the progenitor, but not how this team had replaced the old one.

"Better leave that to Peppy, he's the makeshift historian." Falco nudged his beak in the hare's direction.

"Ah yes, that is my area of expertise." Peppy admitted. "But perhaps not now..." The hare suggested, noticing Krystal approach with a heavy pot in her paws, struggling to hold the large container.

Unaware as to what possessed him to do so, Six rose from his seat and hurriedly relieved the vixen of her burden, placing it on the table for her. As she thanked him, he merely nodded in puzzlement, resuming his previous seat in confusion.

"Viola, dinner is served!" She declared with a flare, removing the lid from the pot and allowing the delicious aroma to seep into the room.

Curious as to what the contents of the pot were, he leaned forwards and looked inside, discovering a large batch of pasta with spherical chunks of meat mixed in. The sight of the foodstuff kickstarted his memory once more and Six could not help but feel as if he had seen its like sometime in the past.

Krystal began the process of distributing the meal in bowls and divvying it up between them. And when the spartan was handed his bowl, he carefully placed it upon the table and scrutinized it in more detail, wanting to determine why it was so familiar.

"Aw yeah, I love this stuff!" Falco exclaimed excitedly as he grabbed a utensil and delved into his bowl with hungry abandon. The others soon followed suit, just as eager, the spartan able to interpret from this that whatever Krystal made was something good.

Looking up from his bowl, Six noticed that he and the vixen were the only ones not partaking, her focus instead aimed at him.

"Go ahead, try it." She urged with a warm smile, gesturing for him to pick up his fork.

Seeing as it would be rude to not at least try after all the work she had put into it, Six hesitantly inserted his fork into the bowl, twirling it and wrapping the utensil's tines with pasta. Spearing one of the balls of meat as well, he brought the loaded fork close to his mouth, uncertain why he was so cautious of food. There was no reason to be and judging by the smell it could be nothing but pleasant.

It took another soft smile from Krystal before he at last relented and placed the contents of the fork into his mouth.

Six was shocked by an explosion of flavors and memories.

The spartan had in fact eaten this before. It was Svenska köttbullar, Swedish Meatballs. His vision was commandeered by a brief flash of a different time and place, a homely kitchen and a much smaller Six. His mother....she had made this for him many times when he had been a child.

For just a moment, he could see her face in his mind's eye, a glimpse of hair as beautiful as spun gold and eyes the color of jeweled sapphire. The obscured imagery was shadowed by a laugh....a soft, warm, and comforting laugh. It had an odd effect on him, Six feeling as if a dagger had been suddenly plunged into his heart, but it was not proceeded by pain just an overpowering sensation of loss.

And just like that the vivid memory was gone, having returned once more to the real world. Six deliberately placed the fork back in the bowl and reached to wipe a bead of warm liquid that had mysteriously appeared on his cheek.

Had he accidently spilled something on himself?

Confused, he brought his gloved finger into sight and noticed a single droplet of water balanced on the tip. Where had that come from? There was a cup of water beside his food, but he had yet to drink from it.

Six was uncertain as what to make of all of this. But, there was one thing he did know.

"This...this is good." He congratulated Krystal, taken back by the odd huskiness in his voice.

In response the vixen smiled that same indulgent smile and nodded in thanks.

Clearing his throat, Six sat up a little straighter and picked up his fork.

He had barely touched his food.

And he was unexpectedly feeling quite hungry.


	13. Contemplation

Chapter 12: Contemplation

 

The dinner had been an interesting affair and an altogether unique experience for Six. Even with Noble Team they had never eaten their meals like this. But then again, it was not if they had the chance. The spartan had been content with simply watching his fellow comrades as they dined and chitchatted. Six was undeniably curious as to how the vixen came into possession of such a familiar meal, and why he had reacted so powerfully to it.

The dinner had been pleasant, the best he had ever eaten. MRE's were not terrible, but they definitely were not great either. It was interesting to see the civilian side of the spectrum. They certainly had the better food. And something about this particular dish spoke to his heart, a thing he had long considered dead.

Midway through, Peppy underwent his monologue on the creation of the present Starfox team, a few years after the death of Fox's father. Six knew some of this from their previous talk a few weeks ago, but there was no problem with getting the finer details. It seemed they had started with just Slippy, Fox and the hare, with Falco joining later on.

Before he restarted his father's company, the vulpine carried out raids against Andross' imperial guard on his homeworld of Papetoon, an arid desert world a fair distance from Corneria. It appeared that General Pepper had personally sought him out with the intention of having Fox take his father's mantle. From what Peppy told him, it had been an easy choice to make.

Shortly afterwards, they defeated Andross for the first time and sometime later came the events on Sauria, where he had rescued Krystal and she in return joined their team. Six had asked her what had happened, but the vixen had explained that she had not been a part of it for long, giving a faint shiver as she spoke about some sort of gemstone prison. Andross then made a return there and was swiftly dispatched by Fox once more.

Once more ending in victory, Fox and his friends returned to Corneria where they spent a length of time without much action and enjoying their newfound fame and fortune. However, sometime later they got involved in a brushfire war on Katininan, subsequently admitting Miyu and Fay into the team upon its conclusion.

"I believe that's all there is to it. Not too long after that, Oikonny attacked Corneria and you appeared." Peppy concluded as he pushed his empty bowl to the side, having finished it quite some time ago.

Six creased his brow in thought. It was an interesting tale, one he doubted would be possible back where he came from. To think that so few could turn the tide of a war. Yet...was not that what spartans had been created for? This was a distantly similar, albeit peculiar comparison.

What would have happened if things had been reversed, if the cornerians had been discovered rather than humanity? Would they Covenant have called for their extinction? Or would they have been asked to join the alien hegemony? Neither sounded good.

Yet look what happened. His life seems to have been directed upon some radical course of which the conclusion ever remained uncertain. Had he been brought here for a reason? Or was this merely a random twist of cruel fate? Six had met many a religious man in his days, to some it brought comfort, to others purpose. But he had never bothered to give them too much thought. Not till now anyways.

Now he suspected that they might have been on to something.

Eventually, sometime during his musing dinner concluded and the table emptied. Soon, he was one of the few remaining people still lingering. Miyu still sat beside him, circling the bottom of her empty bowl with her fork and humming softly to herself. Krystal had chosen to remain behind as well, the vixen seemingly content with studying the grooves embedded into the wood table.

Six allowed himself a few brief moments to study both women.

Almost since he first joined Starfox, they had chosen to stay by his side, for whatever reason. Why they wanted or seemed to enjoy the company of a spartan was a question up for grabs. He was not like Fox, he was not charismatic or easygoing. Six was blunt and many would say callous, and definitely not overtly kind or charming by any measure of those words.

He was a thoroughbred soldier, trained for only one purpose...to wage war. True, he had discovered himself capable of more than that in this recent month. But he was still a far cry from the norm.

But perhaps of both women, Miyu was the greatest oddity. Whereas he was able to see a slim reason for Krystal's persistence, the same did not hold true for the fiery Lynx. By rights she should despise, him. He had been confrontational and harsh from the start, and yet she continuously refused to be intimidated.

Six had to confess he admired her dogged persistence, even if it was hopelessly misplaced.

If they knew what was good for them they would drop their efforts and leave him to his fate. But they did not, and he no longer possessed the resolve to forcefully dissuade them. The spartan was not sure what had happened in such a short time, but he had changed. In ways he suspected, he still could not grasp.

Six rose from his chair and turned to Krystal.

"Thank you for dinner, it was....interesting."

 

"Of course, Six." The vixen offered a pleasant smile.

It was time he got some rest. There was no telling what lay ahead for the next day and since coming here, he was feeling a great deal of exhaustion, more than usual. These cornerians were strenuous just to be around.

Patting Miyu on the shoulder in his version of a silent farewell, the spartan turned and walked away; heading to his borrowed room for some rest and a discreet place to be alone with his thoughts.

 

*****

As per usual, Six awoke at the customary hour of four. Once he took care of the habitual morning rituals he decided to take a peek at the area surrounding the villa. The spartan was curious to see if he would recognize any of the terrain and subsequently wanting some more time to himself.

Stepping out of the room he had been lent, Six was greeted to a dark corridor, the sun having yet to rise and no one beside him being awake. In the end he had decided to leave his MJOLNIR in Fox's room. He knew that no one would take it and they would not be able to carry the heavy plates if they tried.

Besides, it would be nice to get some fresh air after being cooped up for so long. While his armor was more like a second skin to him, sometimes it could be a little restrictive.

Outside, the villa was surrounded by a heavily thatched forest, with a small dirt road winding in between the trees and down the path back to the city. Despite the lack of visible light, Six was able to see as well as if the sun was shining at its peak, a benefit of his augmentation.

As the spartan stood just beyond the villa's front steps, he could not help but feel at ease. The cool night air carried a gentle breeze, filled with the soothing scent of juniper and pine. Not that far away from him was the trees themselves, a scant few meters from the home of his companions. The flora brought to him a welcoming familiarity that he appreciated in the uncertainty of his new existence.

It was the perfect time for a jog.

Adopting an easy and relaxed pace, Six took off down the wooded road.

 

*****

 

Six spent the better part of an hour leisurely making his way through the vegetation in a form of semi-meditation that spartans were adept at creating. He thought about a great deal of things as he jogged, all the events that had brought him to this world, the bizarre attachment he felt for this team of aliens, and perhaps most importantly, what his purpose in life now was.

The strange desire to protect Krystal, and by extent the rest of the team who had taken him in, even if he was not aware that he needed them at the time. But now, he could reason why this held true.

Six had no idea what might have become of him if he had never run across Fox and his friends. Would he have surrendered to death upon waking up in his sabre so many days ago? Might he have eventually decided to make the cornerians his enemy?

With all of this ambiguity, there was one thing he remained positive of. He owed them, for their guileless benevolence and persistent hospitality. They had weathered one of the darkest sides of him and continued in their kindhearted pursuits. They may be mercenaries, but they were nothing like the soldiers of fortune he had met in the past, indeed, they were unlike many of his fellow humans. Alike in actions, but not completely so, they held an inherent innocence that many back home sorely lacked, at least amongst those he consorted with. They were friendly and supportive, what he might consider to a fault.

Six wondered what it would be like if all the people of the universe had that attitude, at the least there would never have been need for soldiers like him. But such thoughts were naught but flights of fancy, there would always be darkness to combat the light. Good could not exist without evil to contrast.

But these were thoughts for another time. He could not spend all his time out amid the forest, as pleasant as it was. He had an obligation to his team.

Six made his way back to the villa, arriving just as the sun began to rear its golden crown over the pseudo-familiar mountains. Next time he would wake up earlier so he could spend more time out here, the spartan had not even broken a sweat and there was still much to explore.

Slowing to a walk, he would have entered the villa, if not for what sounded like a voice coming a fair distance from the north. It was too far to make out if it was one he knew, but it was close enough to garner a look.

The spartan cut through the trees and made a path to the source of the voice. It was a short walk only lasting a handful of minutes.

This side of the forest was not as deep as the others and in little time he reached its end, emerging at a location he had not seen before. The tree's only made a short distance out to the rocky edge, fading away until only a scant few remained, the expanse covered in a thick canvas of verdant grass and low growing bushes.

Here the voice was much clearer and Six was able to recognize it. Which there was no need for seeing as the perpetrator was within easy sight of him, sitting precariously at the cliff's edge.

'Miyu...?' Six's eyed widened slightly in surprise.

The lynx's voice must have carried through the forest, but what was she doing out here at such a time?

Curious, Six stood at the border of the line of trees and studied the scene in greater detail. 

What he had taken for her voice was just the cat humming a tune to herself, the same one he remembered from the night before, a soft melody with low notes and high points. A colorful object was clasped delicately in her paws, a flower he realized upon seeing its radial design. The feline picked at the blossom's petals, her tail lazily drawing incoherent arcs in the morning air as she murmured softly amid the sound of gulls and the crashing waves of the ocean beneath.

A pile of the stripped flora laid to her left, on her right, a heap that had yet to be disassembled. He did not know what the purpose for her actions was, but such a thing was far from his mind, the spartan more interested in why she was there.

His curiosity outweighing his reason, Six decided to approach. The spartan had to give her some credit, the feline noticing him far quicker than a human counterpart would have.

"Oh, Six, I had a feeling I wasn't the first one awake." She greeted him with a friendly smile.

Six had developed somewhat of an understanding of the team, starting to form a mental dossier on their personalities and actions. He had been highly trained by the office of naval intelligence in the study of the mind with the intent to increase his capability to hunt down insurrectionist cells in the outer and inner colonies. That being said he could tell that Miyu was not acting in her usual character. Admittedly, it had taken him longer to develop his profile for each member do to their alien nature, but by this point he was mostly certain of his assertions. And in this case he was confident something was troubling her.

The lynx was exhibiting an unusual amount of sobriety, he sensing it in her posture and tone of voice. That aside he had not taken the feline to be so careless, sitting at the edge of a cliff was not something most people did if they valued their lives.

"What are you doing here?"

 

"Me?" Miyu replied, a faint thoughtfulness to her tone as her gaze returned to the rolling sea underneath her. "I'm just admiring the view."

"There are far safer ways to do that." Six countered. It would not do for an experienced pilot to die from such a paltry accident as falling off a cliff.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" The feline teased lightly, but he noted that it lacked the intensity he had grown used to, the lynx sighing moments later. "Well if you are you don't need to. I know how to take care of myself."

"Clearly..." Six rumbled blandly, recalling their recent mission to a certain jungle world.

"Hey!" She yowled defensively, demonstrating a brief flare of her usual ardor. "That was a fluke! It caught me by surprise, that's all. I could have taken care of it without your help."

Six decided to hold his tongue, not wanting to get into again with the cat. Instead he traveled the rest of the short distance and sat at the edge of the cliff next to her, intending to catch the cat if she fell. Though...the view was no so bad either, this world was truly like Reach. While he was not familiar with this area, he did remember Reach's vast ocean. This one was just as grandiose as its matching pair. Though the one he knew was in all probability no longer existent.

As he settled in, Miyu removed her attention from the rolling waves and shifted it to the spartan beside her, the cat's eyes roving his frame and lacking their usual tinge of lust. At this moment they were clouded by another emotion.

You know..." She broke the silence, looking down to the partially dismantled flower she held in her paws. "I never did thank you for saving me back there."

In response the spartan shrugged. "There's no need to thank me." He did what any spartan would have done for a fellow soldier.

"Still..." The feline pressed, tightly grasping the last petal clinging to the flower in her paw.

It seemed she wanted to say something more, the lynx's lips pulling open with the intent to speak, but after a few moments she reluctantly closed them, sighing instead as she let go of the remaining petal.

Six was unsure of what exactly was running through the feline's head. But then it was not his job to know. The spartan left her to her to them, having thoughts of his own on which to dwell.

He wondered...

If this was indeed an alternate universe as he suspected, were there other humans out there somewhere amidst the immeasurable expanse of stars? Should he not make it his life's goal to find them? But, the universe was so large what hope had he? Would it not be better to stay here, where he was already somewhat situated? Why risk all he had managed to obtain? In any case, he lacked a ship suitable enough to get him very far, and he doubted the cornerians would just let him appropriate one. Maybe after this war he would have enough influence to inquire about it.

The spartan did not feel as if he could abandon this team yet, he had put far too much effort into this to walk away now. At the very least he owed Fox and the others to stick around until this war was over, which looked like it was just about done already. The battle on Fortuna would be the turning point. Six had an acute affinity with the flow and ebb of war, and he could tell that what happened on Fortuna would be the deciding factor for this one's conclusion. If Venom broke at this point, their resolve would shatter and any momentum they had managed to gain with this surprise assault would be rendered null and void.

But if they managed to repel the cornerians, such an action would cripple the already strained CDF and subsequently bolster their desire to press their chances. If the event were to occur, the cornerians had little chance to stop them. One thing Six had noticed from his brief encounter with Venom, was that they had the supplies and capital to outlast the CDF, though he sensed that their forces were not as enamored with the cause.

In the end it all came down to the tenacity of each faction's forces. Venom had numbers but had a want for experienced and charismatic leaders. If they had a competent commander the invasion Six had walked into would not have been so utterly trumped. And the soldiers he had fought lacked the inherent battlefield awareness that even the most rookie of UNSC soldiers grasped. If they had, they would not have been so easy to kill. If he had command of Venom's forces, even the CDF for that matter, he could have this war won by now.

Even so, he had no desire to command an alien army or even a human one. He much preferred to fight then to lead. Six would gladly leave that to Fox and the General. Just because he could did not mean he should.

"Hey...Six."

The spartan was thrust out his musing by the feline's voice, having forgotten she was there.

"Yes?" He replied, shifting his crimson irises over to the furred individual sitting next to him. He had not taken the time to notice her apparel upon his first glance, but now he was aware that she was clad in little but a thin red gown that clung to her generous curves and fluttered lightly in the ocean breeze. Without his armor he could tell that the morning air had a distinctly chilled bite to it, but it was little problem for him but one he imagined was not so pleasant for her. In his opinion she should have dressed appropriately.

"What was the war like, the one you fought before coming here?"

Six froze.

Such a question had come at an odd time and its intrusive premise took him greatly by surprise. Of all the things she could have asked him, why did it have to be about the war? He would rather have her make one of her normally suggestive remarks rather than this. But, he had to wonder.

"Why?" He murmured softly.

Why did she ask this of him?

The guilt evident by the immediate slouch to her shoulders, Miyu tore her gaze from him as if physically struck. The feline had seen the sudden flash in his eyes, the haunted glint that had so completely taken them over, and instantly she was ashamed to have asked him something that cut him so deeply. But she had to know. Up till now all she had heard was his brief stories, ones he was obviously not enthused in telling. But she had to know, what had made him so? What had turned him into the man she saw before him now?

"I...I know you don't like taking about it." She admitted as her ears wilted with remorse, the furry lobes clinging to her skull contritely as she forced herself to look back at him. "But, I...well I just want to know."

As she looked upon the spartan again, the haunted shine was gone, they were just blank, lacking any visible trace of emotion. Even his face was an emotionless mask, much like the visor he was usually hidden behind.

"Do you really wish to know what it was like?" He rumbled quietly, his lips barely moving to form the soft words that left his mouth.

"Y-Yes." She stammered hesitantly, suddenly freighted of his response.

"It was cold...." Six muttered ominously, the past events of his life coming to the fore of his thoughts with a silent power. "Cold and dark...."

The pain in his voice was readily apparent, and she could not help but feel terrible for asking this of him. But...she had heard from Krystal that she had managed to speak with him in detail. And she felt that she too deserved to at least hear some things about his previous life.

Now though....it was not as worth it as she thought it would be.

"I have learned a great deal about both humanity and our enemy during the war." He continued, his tone muted and yet having little difficulty caring over the sounds of the wind and nature. "I discovered our aptitude for cruelty, endured the brutality of our hated foes. You may think this war you fight is terrible, that the consequences of defeat are untold in their horror."

 

"You are hopelessly naïve." Six shook his head sadly.

Despite the hardness to his tone, she felt that he was not admonishing her, at least not in a hateful way. To Miyu it felt more like a warning.

"The war we waged was of survival rather than pointless ideologies or petty desires of conquest. The Covenant were not satisfied with just winning the war, they sought our complete and total annihilation, down to the last man, woman, and child. They slaughtered innocents, regardless of age, race, or gender, burned entire worlds to ash. There was no surrender, no retreat. Every battle fought was to the last. The last bullet, the last tank, the last ship, the last man.... To the last..." He muttered, scoffing contemptuously with a degree of self-loathing.

"We could not hide, for they hunted us, we could not win, for their technology was advanced, their numbers too vast to rightly stand against. All we could do was fight, endless battles in a hopeless war. Thus we were thrown against them, myself and my predecessors, spartans, supersoldiers, the supposed saviors of humanity, as if we could actually turn the tide on our own." He chuckled morosely. "Even with our incredible prowess in battle and inhuman strength, we too began to fall. But the UNSC could not acknowledge our deaths. No. That would affect moral. So though we died...we did not."

 

"After all..." He smiled, a small and wretchedly miserable affair.

"Spartans never die."

 

Six locked eyes with Miyu, still holding that small sad smile.

"Tell me, Miyu...was that sufficient?"

 

Her capacity for speech stolen from her, the cat gave a sluggish nod.

Still smiling, Six allowed himself to fall back on the soft grass behind him, his arms crossed under his head as he gazed up at the deep blue sky, yet seeing in his mind's eye the dying skies of Reach as the Covenant's energy beams tore its atmosphere asunder.

It was all he could think to do, smile..

 

*****

 

 

Miyu had no words to say, nothing to offer in the form of comfort for the man sitting beside her. Even though it had been her question and she felt responsible for the effect it had on him. There was nothing she could do that would be of any use to him. The hesitant feline gathered her courage and turned to him, the spartan lying on his back and looking up into the sky, that poignant smile still lingering on his face. This was the first time she had seen him smile, and she felt as if he did not smile for the same reasons she or the others did. His was not one of happiness, but despair.

It came to her attention that she should probably leave, having done enough damage already. But the feline owed him for asking such a bellicose question. Miyu wondered how she could make amends, deciding that what she needed was to distract him.

But how?

What she might have done for a normal male would not prove to be effective on him. After all, he did not seem interested in the same things that any ordinary male was. And in case she lacked experience in that field of feminine expertise.

As she thought hard, an idea came to her.

He had told something of himself, she could do the same.

 

*****

 

"You know...growing up, I hadn't really planned on being a mercenary."

Six rolled his head to the side, watching inquisitively as the feline adopted a similar pose, her tail curled in her lap as she lay beside him, staring up into the sky with a wain smile.

"My mom and dad went aboard the first wave of colony ships heading to Katina, an applicant for the local defense force and a fighter mechanic respectively."

The spartan was silent as he listened to the cat that had suddenly started spewing her life's story, both curious and confused as to why she had decided to randomly do so.

"My mom..." The feline chuckled softly. "Well, she was a real hot headed gal, the kind of woman who wasn't afraid to speak her mind and made sure everyone within half a mile could hear what she had to say. And my dad was a real quiet fellow, didn't talk much and was kind of a big hearted softy most of the time. Still, they somehow made it work. I was born a few months after they settled down in the small growing suburbs a few kilometers off base. It was a small town, mostly military families and a few miners working the deposits up in the mountains."

Six was surprised to find that he was interested in her tale. Any information on this universe was welcomed, even if it was not necessarily pertaining to his personal interests.

"I spent my childhood there while mom flew with the local fighter garrison and dad kept her ship running. It was a peaceful place, nothing worse than the occasional pirate raid every year or so, which the local DF had no problem taking care of. That's where I met Fay. Her parents came with the planet rush about the same time as mine, though she was a few grades behind me when I met her. Poor girl, she was the quiet type you know, didn't make many friends. Long story short I helped her become popular and she made sure my grades didn't take a dive."

Miyu sighed, her paws twiddling on her chest as she took a deep breath.

"I always wanted to be a florist... Now don't laugh at me." She warned him with a stern glare. "A girl can dream."

Six remained silent, having little desire to do anything of the sort. He had no idea what a florist was exactly, but that aside he had always reserved judgment for civilian occupations, thinking that each was important in their own way.

"Katina's a dry place. Not much greenery. But...there is this one flower." She murmured softly, her muzzle etched with a whisper of longing. "It only grows at a certain place, a few hours from town by hovercar. They named the planet after it, the Katinian blossom. My mom and I always did love it and I would make it a goal to get one every once and a while to cheer her up."

Miyu shook her head, an almost unnoticeable shine in her eyes. "Anyways, a few days after I graduated, I took Fay out with me to get some flowers for my mother, it was her birthday that week and I wanted it to be a surprise. And well..." She shuddered and sniffled. "Well...the war had been going for a little while by then, but we never thought it would come to us. But it did."

Six frowned softly. He knew where this story was going.

"Venom attacked the garrison, full force. And they burned it to the ground, most didn't survive...including my mother. CDF reinforcements came too late. They managed to push back the venomians, but not soon enough to save her."

The cat rubbed a paw across her eyes and cleared her throat. "Dad took it pretty hard, blamed himself for her death. He believed that if he had maybe done a better job she wouldn't have been killed. And I...." She paused, a flower now in her paws. "I didn't really want to be a florist anymore."

Six was startled to feel an emotion he had not felt in quiet some time...sympathy. Learning of her mother's death struck a particular cord inside him and it resonated briefly with his heart.

"Anyways..." Miyu exclaimed loudly, lithely gliding up to her feet as she did so, seemingly back to her old self. "Fay and I met Fox a little while later, helped him out some, having been freshly recruited into the local garrison. Sometime later we joined his team and the rest is history."

Six slowly rose to his feet, silently studying the feline beside him. In all outward appearances, she looked fine. At least that's what most people would see. Six was an excellent interpreter of body language and by now he had a firm grasp on the cornerian "dialect" as it were.

Telling her story had taken a great deal out of the cat. While her facial expression was neutral, her tail could not lie. The furred appendage hung lifeless from her lower back, dragging against the grassy earth as she stared off into the ocean.

The spartan was surprised to find that he was not in agreement with this version of Miyu. He in fact disliked it greatly.

Moving autonomously from his body, the spartan's hand reached out to her, resting firmly on the feline's shoulder, a simple gesture often reserved more for the battlefield when offering support to a fellow soldier. It was an action he had seen Carter do for Kat after they had learned of Jorge's fate.

Caught unawares by the spartan's unusual display, Miyu looked back to him and was accordingly shocked when he gave her a terse and measured embrace, bringing her close to his chest in a concise action before swiftly releasing her and stepping away.

While lasting less than a minute, to her, it felt like an eternity. Miyu allowed herself to fully return it, hugging him back fiercely and burying her muzzle into his muscled torso. Despite her ragged inner state, she was instantly calmed upon feeling his arms wrap around her shoulders. She knew how incredibly uncommon this act was, and she wanted to get as much as she could out of it before it ended. Her bosom vibrated as an unregulated purr manifested from within her. His very presence was enough to reduce the pain she felt at her old memories. There was only one feeling she could describe as he held her.

Safe...she felt safe.

Unfortunately, it was with great reluctance she felt him pull away as he quickly retreated from their embrace. The feline gazed up into his face, curious to see it after he performed such an unfamiliar action.

The spartan's face was consumed by a slow transformation, uncertainty and doubt twisting his striking features. In the end he hurriedly swiveled away from her without a word, heading back into the forest and towards the villa.

Yet Miyu was not discouraged by his actions, rather she bent over and picked up the flower she had been holding previously, the one with the single petal. The feline gazed down at the blossom and grabbed the remaining frond, smiling as she plucked it.

 

*****

 

Six's mind was a whirlwind of uncertainty. Embracing her had seemed like the appropriate response for her state of being. It was a natural thing to do for someone who grieved. He had seen it done many times before, after a Covenant glassing of an ill-fated planet. It was a conventional response, a human response.

And that was what troubled him.

He had never felt that it was his responsibility to do that for someone, and yet, he had seen the cat suffering silently and could not abide such a sight. Six was troubled; he felt as if he was slowly losing himself, losing what he had used to be. And he did not know if it was something to be gladdened or frightened by. He had no desire to fail as a spartan, to lose what it was that made him into a peerless warrior. If he did, how could he protect those in need? He could not afford to let himself forget where he came from, what he truly was. It was a nice thought to want to be human, but if doing so meant that he could no longer perform the duty he had been created for...then was there any real reason to try?

If he could not find a balance between his humanity and his duty as a spartan, then he could see only one road left to take. Better he sacrifice what could afford to be lost. What did one life matter if it was for the betterment of all?

One thing he did know for now was that he needed to clear his head. And the best way to do that was through physical exertion.

And with that Six set off into the villa with the intent of finding the means to do just that.

 

*****

 

It did not take him as long as he thought it would have to find what he was looking for. Fox did indeed have a fitness room in the villa, though it was on the second story which seemed to be dedicated for secondary necessities.

As suspected, the gym housed equipment that was exact replicas of the ones he knew. It was a logical assumption, seeing as both humans and cornerians shared exceedingly similar anatomical builds.

Wanting to get started as soon as possible, the spartan jumped onto the closest machine, a bench press. It took him a little while to get situated with the weight system the cornerians used, they seeming to favor smaller and yet denser weights. Deciding to start light, he only placed a few hundred pounds onto the bar. After a few trial pumps, he realized that it was inadequate and so he increased the weights by a further hundred.

From what he knew of his own physiology, without the air of his MJOLNIR he could bench roughly three times his immediate body weight, more in times of great duress. This aside, he still wanted to find a place to mark his strength after having spent so much time without training. He was confident it had dropped by some margin since he came here.

A few minutes into his weightlifting, he was disappointed to come to the conclusion that the cornerian equipment was inferior. He had already reached the max the bar could hold and he felt that he could still lift more. At the current rate this was not even capable of inducing fatigue.

Sighing, he dropped set the bar against the stand, the two prongs of metal groaning under the considerable weight.

Deciding that perhaps another machine would be advisable, Six shifted over to the treadmill, this too proving to be insufficient in tending to his requirements. The machine could not exceed the speed he needed and maxed out before he could reach even 40 kmh.

Seeing that the machines were not to par, Six dismissed them and chose to do things the old fashioned way. Grabbing the nearest pull-up bar, he got to work.

 

*****

 

Falco was not a morning person. All it took was one look for anyone to see this.

Grumbling to himself, the avian haphazardly staggered his way through the villa and into the kitchen, starting up the coffee maker and plopping down on a stool beside the counter as he waited for the machine to finish its cycle. Even after a shower he still would appear to most people to be half dead.

Dressed in a sweatshirt and pants, he had given up on trying to look presentable, placing comfort over style.

Though he did not like waking up so early, he did not want to develop a bad habit like sleeping in until at least the war was over. It didn't matter if they were hanging around corneria at the moment he was not willing to break the routine for anything.

A trio of piercing whistles from the machine signified that the brewing process was done and the bird slowly grabbed a mug of coffee and filled it up to the top, black, just how he liked it. Falco left the rest of the pot on the burner for anyone else interest in a mug and meandered through the halls with a goal in mind.

As he made his way up the stairs and into the next set if halls, he was surprised to see light seeping through the partially closed gym's doors.

'Is Miyu up already?'

 

Intrigued, he made his way over and placed a feathered hand onto the handle of the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.

'Well...that's something you don't see every day.'

 

 

*****

 

'297...298...299...300'

Six counted off silently in his head as he completed his first set of push-ups.

Having finished on the bars, he had taken to the next most familiar form of strength building, seeking to improve his upper body strength.

"Do you think that might be a little...excessive?"

Stopping before he started his next set, Six removed the three, hundred pound weights he had placed on his back and positioned them carefully upon the rug covered ground as he easily climbed back to his feet.

"Excessive...?" He repeated, turning to Falco in confusion.

The avian seemed to mull over his response before shrugging and taking a sip from the mug in his grip. "You know what, never mind. Knowing you by now it's probably not enough." He had seen plenty of Six by now to know these things.

Leaving the spartan to his own devices, Falco set his mug down at the small table flush with the wall beside the door and took his usual place on the barbells to curl the heavy weights. As he fired out his own routine, he allowed himself to watch Six as he did his own thing, the spartan back to what he had been doing before the avian entered.

He had always considered Six to be a strong guy, but damn....that was certainly something else. Falco would be lucky to do the same with only a hundred pounds on his back, but Six was doing three times that. Yet, it was obvious even to his eyes that he could have done more if not constrained by the equipment he was using. Just how strong was Six exactly? Not so long ago he had been tempted to try and spar with the spartan, but now he was not so eager. Falco had a feeling he stood little chance at being an even opponent. Maybe, if he used every move he used, even the underhanded ones, he might be able to last. But that was it, last, not win. The only way he could see winning was if Six let him, and he doubted the spartan's pride would allow him do that.

Falco wondered what it had taken for Six to reach such a level of physical aptitude.

When faced with such an impressive specimen of bodily acumen, Falco found it hard to work out himself, plagued by a feeling of inadequacy. Still, he soldiered through until he finished his usual routine and headed for the showers.

Six had finished up moments before him, an almost unnoticeable sheen of sweat covering his visible skin. The spartan followed the avian into the shower room, with the same intent in mind.

The showers had private booths, enough for each member of the previous team. Falco claimed one closer to the entrance and Six had picked his to be in the very back.

The avian took very little time to wash up, just intending to ensure that there would be no lingering odor. Finished within a few minutes, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out. As before, Six had finished before him, the spartan already, reaching for the strange black suit he wore.

'The guy really needed clothes of his own.' It must have been inconvenient, stuck with only that and his armor.

Yet, Falco was alarmed to see the myriad of scars and old injuries carved across the spartan's alabaster skin, a flowing tapestry of timeworn suffering. The avian spotted just about every type of physical mark that could be left on a body, lacerations, burns, bullet wounds, skin grafts. It was not a pretty sight.

"Had it pretty tough huh?" Falco commented with an air of casualness, slipping on his sweat clothes.

Six nodded as he dressed himself back into his suit, a process that looked particularly odd with the bodysuit's design. So as not to compromise its integrity, the suit was a single piece requiring the user to enter with some measure of difficulty.

Because of this Falco finished before him and walked out of the showers and left the gym. He understood Six's desire for seclusion and respected his wishes. If the big guy wanted to talk, he would.

He traveled back down the kitchen, seeing that Peppy was awake now, a mug of coffee in paw as he read the morning news on his holopad. Some things could not be done the old fashioned way.

"Morning, Falco." The hare greeted, sparing only glance to the avian as he entered.

"Sup, Pep." He replied, filling his mug back to the top and moving to the couch, flicking the TV on and flipping through the channels until he found the one he was looking for.

"In other news, reports of a strange individual in blue armor have been popping up all over Corneria Center...."

"I wonder who that could be." Falco chuckled, watching as the leonine newscaster delved deeper into the story. He often tuned into the one of the larger news corporations to see what was happening in the system, and this time it looked like this particular story catered to their personal interests.

"Eyewitness place this unknown individual in close proximity with Fox Mccloud, the System famed Mercenary captain." The usual array of shoddy images from personal comms devices popped up on the television, all clearly putting Six next to Fox as they exited the Starport.

"Since yesterday, rumors have spread on who exactly this person is, ranging from the assumptions that they are a new member of Team Starfox to a visitor from another System."

Those were actually pretty good guesses, though it probably didn't take a genius to come up with them. Not many people hung out with Fox, those that did tended to be pretty important.

Falco listened as the newscaster went deeper into speculation, going on for a few minutes before changing off to the early morning traffic reports.

"And just like that everybody goes on with their lives." Peppy muttered quietly to himself.

"Yeah, it'd probably take something really crazy to stay on the air for long." Falco agreed.

"I don't need publicity anyways." Six stood behind the couch, a mug of coffee in his hand just like the others. It was not often he drank anything more than water, but this time he was willing to make an exception.

The spartan took a sip from the dark liquid, finding that he particularly enjoyed the bitter flavor. "The sooner they forget I exist, the better."

 

The last thing Six wanted was public attention. Such would only interfere with his duties and intrude on his privacy. Spartans were often idolized in human media, the UNSC placing them as figureheads for the war, never had a spartan been logged to fall in battle, they were only ever reported as MIA or WIA. It was best if they were shown as an invincible fount for humanity to put their faith in. Yet not even he or his fellow S-IIIs would get even such an "honor" as that. They had been created with the intention to never exist, neither dead nor wounded, a fate far worse laid in wait for them, to be thrown away and forgotten.

"What about your claim to fame?" Falco wondered. "After all, you did pretty much stop the invasion."

"I told you some time ago." Six replied easily. "I do not fight for fame. I fight because I was bred to."

 

"Bummer..." Falco sighed.

Six shrugged, sitting at the end of the couch. "Maybe for you..." 

 

The spartan pulled up his wrist, where he wore the only piece of his armor he felt he currently needed. Popping open the TACPAD's hardcase and booting it up, Six ran a diagnostic on the device he hardly used. It had proven little use to him during the fall of Reach. Now though, he suspected it might show itself to be more valuable. He wanted to catalogue all the information he had gained so far from his stay here, data on Venom and the CDF, the planet's he had visited and the ones he had yet to.

It took him a little time, but he managed to connect the TACPAD with the network the cornerians used. He had to hand it to them, their version of the internet was better than humanity's. From what he knew of it, the net could be used even between planets, and it spanned the entire system.

Six went through his coffee as he learned what he could about the fields that interested him, the spartan reading on modern weapons manufacturing to the latest advances in applicable military sciences. He wanted to know how they stood on a martial standpoint to humanity, as well as how expansive their territories were. He had a great deal of knowledge on the USNC, but that would not help him here. What he needed was a better understanding of the CDF, their strengths and their weaknesses.

From what he was reading, they were a republic, with an elected leader and a house of representatives, much like the UEG before martial law had been declared. Though, they filled little more than a peacekeeping role, with each planet ruling independently from the coalition. The exception being the CDF, the martial organization amassed from every planet and led entirely by a single figurehead, General Pepper.

The Defense Force seemed to field equipment far advanced than that which humanity had at their disposal upon the Covenant's entrance and ignition of the war. Yet, the balance of tech was at an odd angle. The CDF's ships had shields and energy weapons, yet their groundside forces seemed to lack effective armors and did not have shield technology like the navy.

Yet even the most basic human infantry armors were capable of withstanding some damage from Covenant plasma weapons. Six could deduce that they would prove to be equally effective against cornerian lasers, perhaps even superior to their current defensive gear.

Most human ships were also several leagues larger than their cornerian counterparts. The biggest cornerian vessel he had seen was barely the size of a standard UNSC cruiser. Furthermore, he was certain that no ship they possessed would be capable of surviving a single shot from a MAC cannon. Though was willing to bet their energy weapons would prove to be a challenge.

This was all hypothetical anyways, considering such occurrences would never happen. The likelihood of a UNSC ship being here, and going against the CDF were slim to none, completely inconceivable. It was just something that interested him as a soldier.

Six dug deeper into the net, pulling up starcharts and researching all he could on what cornerian scientist had explored of the stars, sifting through countless research papers and scientific journals with the goal to learn how far they had expanded.

An hour of perusing later he was able to uncover quite a bit on cornerian expansion, or rather the lack of it.

For whatever reason they seemed content with the small system they now occupied, though bigger than sol, it was still a shadow of what humanity had achieved. And judging from cornerian history, they had the capability of space travel for what seemed like a millennia, And in all that time not a single one has ever ventured further than the edge of Lylat. The spartan was intrigued by this, wondering why they had never gone farther. They certainly had a huge population if the city he saw was any indicator. Surely they would want to expand to relive the pressure on over population?

What was it that kept them bound here?

Tired of reading articles, Six closed the TACPAD. Such things could only interest him for so long. He was a man of action, which made his current predicament all that more infuriating. Knowledge was welcome, but if he never had the chance to use what he had learned then there was little point in having it.

The times where he was not needed were so few and far between that he had never developed habits on using his free time. Now with an abundance of such a once previously rare commodity, he knew not what to do. His weapons were still detained and his sabre was aboard The Great Fox, so he could not do that which he normally did.

This left the spartan at a loss. He supposed since he was now a part of a mercenary team, free time would be a common occurrence that he should adapt to. But while the idea of having time to himself was appealing, he did not want it to hinder his responsibilities as a spartan. Thus entailing that though he desired such things, he had to balance it with his already outstanding duties.

As long as he did not grow lax in those, he was willing to allow himself some leeway to pursue more social recreations, of which he had yet to determine.

For now, he supposed he could allow himself to sit here on the couch and......relax. Besides, he might be able to pick up some more information from the news network, while most in the colonies had been either propaganda or trivial bulletins, these hopefully might prove to be better.

 

*****

 

Eventually after some time, Six came to the conclusion that cornerian news was just as inane as what he had come to know. There was little information pertaining to the war, most of it just idle gossip about the frivolous attentions of the civilian masses. Fox and the team were referenced several times, news filtering in about their more recent exploits, though these broadcast also seemed to include him.

That did not make Six very happy.

It would appear that information had leaked pertaining to the incident on Zoness, which put him in the limelight. The news cut to the streets, where a reporter was attempting to gain the opinions of the general populace.

Not wanting to watch such meaningless drivel, Six rose from the couch and left to find a place more suited for him.

Six hoped Fox would return soon. The spartan was curious to know when the drop pod would be ready for deployment, he was eager to get back in action. He decided that it would be best for him to leave, before the den became too stifling.

The spartan entered the hall and in doing so, found Krystal to be within a few feet of him. The vixen was slightly bedraggled, her fur only partially brushed and lengthy blue hair out of order. A faint tiredness was still visible in her eyes and he wondered if she had some trouble sleeping the night before. Her health had come as a point of concern for him.

"Good morning Six." She greeted him with a warm, albeit tired tone and the customary friendly smile he was used to seeing.

"Good morning." He dutifully responded with a respectful tilt of his head. Six did not like seeing her so exhausted. "Are you...alright?" The inquired hesitantly.

The vixen grinned, her tail suddenly shifting into motion as it wagged happily back and forth. It seemed his question had perked her up a little bit.

"Yes I am, thank you for asking. And well...actually..." She turned tentative, wringing her paws with indecision.

Six waited silently for what she no doubt intended to ask, some favor he assumed.

"Six...would you care to...go for a walk?" She requested timidly, a strange red tint surfacing bellow the cream colored fur of her cheeks. The vixen's stance shifted, crossing her arms under her breasts and looking up to him expectantly.

Six frowned slightly. It was an odd request for her to make, but... He supposed it would be one he could acquiesce to. The spartan had intended to get some air anyways. This would kill two birds with one stone as it were. And if there was anything Six liked, it was efficiency.

He had not responded yet, and she was beginning to grow concerned, visible in her uncertain stance as the vixen's tail curled close to her legs.

"If that is your wish..." He replied, curtly nodding in acceptance. Six could see no harm in allowing her to join him.

"Great!" She yipped happily, her unease instantly vanished, replaced by an almost overwhelming display of joy as her tail once more flapped with new life and any anxiety on her muzzle was washed away amid the new flow of emotions.

Six did not know how to react. 

"Indeed..." He agreed apprehensively, motioning for her to lead the way and following after the bouncing vixen as she directed him to the door.

He hoped this would not end up like the events earlier that morning.


	14. Denials

Chapter 13: Denials

 

Krystal seemed to have a good idea on where she was going as Six followed her deeper into the forest. And as the minutes passed, he could not help but wonder where exactly that was. He was impressed with her stamina, the vixen maintaining the brisk pace she had started on with little signs of slowing down.

With nothing else to do but observe, he shifted his focus between her and the forest around them. The trees drew closer together as they progressed, a sign that they were delving far into unused territory. Krystal herself was unusually silent as she led the way, her joyful demeanor diminishing somewhat by this point, but still maintaining a pleasant mood.

Once more he was made curious by the vixen, her actions so full of life and hope. Being so far contrasted to him, Six often wondered why it is she found his company to be enjoyable. True he was trying to be more accommodating, but he was still not quite there and was still prone to bouts of anger. He could not find any qualities in himself that she would like.

Six wasn't an idiot. He was not blind to the happenings around him.

He knew Krystal felt...something for him. He did not just understand what type of infatuation she had or the reason for it. But he was starting to worry that it was deeply set. Six was willing to admit. He had grown...fond, of her over time, even learned to respect her. The vixen's kindness and innocence had affected him in a way that no one else had been able to produce or replicate before her.

In all honesty with himself, Krystal was an oddity he did not quite understand. The vixen was imprudent and naïve. She did not fit his preexisting concepts of what a warrior should be. Yet he had seen some measure of her skills for himself and knew she was a capable combatant. But he believed her softness to be a weakness. One day it would get her killed and her death would be...displeasing. He did not want to see such a day occur nor did he intend to be the reason behind it.

All the spartan did, was bring death, to ally and enemy alike. It was his comrades in arms who died while he remained alive. Even his attempt at suicide failed, landing him here in this realm of idiosyncrasy. He had outlived all his known fellow S-IIIs and watched the bastion of humanity fall, and its countless defenders alongside it. Six was not the type to make friends. He had seen too many die to risk forming such attachments. The life of a Lone Wolf had suited him well before this, and such a stance would continue to serve him for the remainder of his days.

She and anyone else by default would be better off seeking sociability from other more suitable sources. He wanted to tell her as much, but as he watched her happily bound down the trail, he could not find it in him to tell her such a thing. Whether because of his solitary nature or peculiar attachment for the girl, he was uncertain.

Six found that he did not like to see her sad, such a sight almost physically pained him. When he had vowed that no harm would come to her, he had not expected for it to include emotional wounds. He knew that if he ever told her what he thought, it would hurt her, and he had no desire to do such a thing. He just hoped he would never reach the point where a decision would have to be made on this.

He had no idea what he would do.

"Alright Six, we're here."

The spartan turned to her, hearing the distinct sound of water crashing against rock.

Krystal had led him to a large dell, the source of the loud noise being the moderately sized waterfall at its center. A ring of tall trees circled the clearing, large wooded spires covered in a thick coating of leaves. The gentle ripple of water caressing the shore of the miniature lake provided a mute undertone for the roar of the waterfall and several large rocks made their homes at the water's edge.

Even through his arduous career expanding across countless worlds, Six had never seen a sight quite like the one in front of him now.

As he studied his surroundings, Krystal stepped ahead of him and took a seat on one of the large flat rocks that lounged partially submerged in the reflective pool. The vixen removed her sandals and dipped her paws into the cool water with a relaxed sigh, turning her smiling muzzle towards him. 

"Come, sit with me, please." She patted the space on the rock beside her beckoningly.

Withholding his many reservations, Six complied, sitting rigidly beside her. He still did not know to what purpose she had brought him here, and he was not sure if he wanted the answer.

"So...do you like it?"

His worries aside, Six did find the scenery to be pleasant.

"What is this place?"

 

Krystal hunched forwards and rested her paws on her knees, smiling as she stared into the pristine pool's reflective surface, lazily kicking her feet back and forth underneath the water and watching as the calm waves she generated stretched leisurely across the small pond.

"I found it a little while after I joined the team. As far as I know, no one else has been here before. It's where I like to go and think...reflect on certain things. I find that it is very peaceful here." She murmured.

The clamors of this place canceled each other out in an almost unnoticeable white noise, giving the illusion that all was silent.

Six did rather like it...the silence.

He nodded in agreement.

Krystal smiled up at him. "I wanted to show you this place because I thought you might like it. You can come here whenever you so desire. I know....." She paused, her smile losing some of its cheer. "I know you are sometimes...irritated, by me and the others. So if you want a place to be by yourself you can use this one. I promise I won't disturb you when you come here."

Six was surprised to hear her speak like this. He had thought he kept his irritation better concealed. The spartan reprimanded himself for his lack of discipline. He would have to get a better handle on his emotions. Yet, he was...touched, that she was trying to support him. It was rather thoughtful of her and something he had not considered. He doubted he would ever have a need for this place, spartans did not run from their problems. But he was grateful that she was trying to give him an opportunity, though a misguided one.

"I....appreciate the gesture." He rumbled quietly. "But I will not need this place."

 

The vixen frowned, apprehension etched deeply into her muzzle. "Is there something wrong with it?" She whimpered.

Six sighed in frustration, briefly rubbing his brow. He was not equipped to handle the delicate emotions of a female and he felt as if he was skirting around the tripwires of a live bomb, though he suspected that would be less hazardous to his health.

Where was Jorge when you needed him?

"That is not the issue." He grunted wearily as he turned to face her. "For there is no issue. Despite my...irritation with you and the others, I do not need such a place. This is your sanctuary, mine is here." He tapped the center of his forehead, pulling his hand away and pointing it at her. "My duty is to you, Fox, and the others. Regardless of what I may feel, that will not change so long as I am a part of this team. Spartans do not abandon their comrades, no matter the odds. While this is a different foundation, that one truth remains the same. I cannot perform my duty if I cannot stand something as trivial as personal discomfort."

 

Her expression remained unchanged as he explained himself, and Six was forced to hold back another sigh. It was painstaking enough to have to give his reasons without having to find a way to lighten her mood. His job was to follow the orders give to him, not micromanage a woman's emotions. The spartan had little experience with these types of situations. And at the moment he would rather fight a hunter pair unarmed.

"Look..." He exhaled heavily in resignation. "I am thankful for your consideration. But I do not need it. If you really want to help me, just let this go."

Eventually, Krystal nodded her acceptance, though she remained mute.

Six did feel some small measure of pity for her. He doubted this was how she had hoped things would have happened. What was worse, that damned pain in his chest made itself known once more. He could not bear to see her like this, so troubled and aggrieved. Despite all of his misgivings and reluctance, Six could not ignore the agonizing truth.

Her wellbeing mattered to him, both mental and physical. 

The vixen genuinely worried over him, showed concern for his thoughts, and cared enough to show him her private sanctuary with the intent to let him use it. The spartan had shared most of his secrets with her, and she had not baulked. No matter how much he wanted to remain alone, she would not let him. If not for her he would never have come as far as he did on the path to uncover his humanity. He still could not believe that it had been an alien to show him that he was still human.

While her physical health was not a concern at the moment, her mental health was. For whatever reason his recent words and actions were upsetting her and while Six could mend wounds of the flesh, he could not patch wounds of the heart.

Reaching out for her, Six placed a hand on her thigh in an attempt to try and calm the vixen, feeling the suppleness of the furred flesh underneath her clothes. It was a foreign sensation that stirred a flicker of something he had never felt in the entirety of his life and could not rightly describe, a glimmer of...deprivation, as if he had been denied some intangible right of human nature.

"Krystal...."

 

The vixen's anxiety changed forms as she looked up to him with the barest trace of a smile.

"You have already done so much for me, you need not do more. Please....do not be saddened. I cannot bare it. Just...smile." The words came to him with a heavy surge of discomfort, but it was his hope that they might prove to be effective in turning her black mood.

Silently, her muzzle curled into a radiant smile and she shifted a paw over the hand he had placed on her thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Six...." Krystal whispered breathlessly, the vixen's muzzle extending towards him, her black lips pursing as they neared his own with desirous intent, her emerald eyes scrunched tightly shut as she craned outwards to him longingly.

The spartan found it difficult to breathe as he watched her luscious black lips approach, stricken powerfully by indecision and swelling apprehension. He wanted.... Six....could no longer tell what it was that he wanted. This was unlike anything he had ever been forced to endure. There had been no amount of training or preparation for this moment.

Just as he felt the faintest trace of her maw flutter against him, Six pulled away violently, wrenching his head away from her and briskly standing up.

Krystal fell forwards, and painfully smacked her muzzle against the rock, her kiss not meeting the resistance she expected. Rubbing her snout, the vixen looked up to him with watery eyes, full of confusion and pain.

Six turned his head away in disgrace, sickened by himself and his actions. At that moment he wished that he had not survived the fall of Reach. She and the others would have been better off if he had never come here.

"I....I am sorry. But this...this cannot be." He choked out, turning his back to her and leaving in muted shame, the vixen watching his departure in silent tears.

 

*****

 

Fox knocked once on the door to his room before entering. The vulpine was surprised to find that the light's had been dimmed and the place looked to be empty. He knew Six was in here, yet the spartan was not within eyesight. He had just returned from Fara's apartment, and had come looking for him with news on the progress of the drop pod.

"Six...?" He called aloud as he ventured further into the room.

The reply was not immediately forth coming, but when it did Fox was directed to the partially open sliding glass door to his balcony.

"Fox..."

 

The vulpine followed the spartan's voice, stepping over the pieces of his assembled armor. When he spotted the helmet sitting on his desk, Fox's curiosity rose a great deal. What had he missed in the past day?

Eager to see what the spartan looked like, he pushed the sliding door open the rest of the way and stepped outside. Looking around, he spotted Six sitting on one of the patio chairs, gazing out into the night sky. Fox took a few moments to study his alien features. Six was not all that different, not nearly as strange as he had first suspected. In fact the spartan might not have garnered all that much attention in the city crowds if not for his imposing height and grim countenance. Fox could have stared at his friend's visage longer, if not for the intensely distressed frown marring his otherwise exotic looks. The spartan was deeply affected by something, of which Fox did not know.

Concerned, he grabbed the back of the second chair and dragged it closer, taking a seat beside the troubled warrior.

"Hey Six, what's the problem?"

The spartan did not answer, turning his attention to Fox and rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh. It was a peculiarly earthly display that he had not thought Six capable of. Having developed somewhat of an understanding on how the spartan functioned; Fox did as he had grown accustomed to and waited silently for his friend to speak.

The vulpine waited patiently, time dragging on and the spartan remained silent. As he waited, Fox pulled the flask out from under his vest and took a swig, deciding to have a drink in the meanwhile.

He went through half of the canteen's contents before Six finally spoke.

"I....I am not made for this world, Fox." The spartan muttered quietly. "I can do nothing but cause pain. Maybe...maybe this was a mistake. I think I should leave the team."

"W-what!" Fox spluttered, spraying a muzzleful of whiskey all over his clothes. "What the hell are you saying, Six!?" He demanded as he tried to scrub the alcohol out of his vest with his scarf.

What had happened in the time he was gone?

"I of course will stay until ordered otherwise, I owe you that much. And I will still do the coming mission regardless." Six explained as he shifted his crimson gaze over to Fox. "But I do not think it best for me to remain here."

 

Fox wrung out his scarf, tossing it on the rail to dry as he frowned at Six. "Why?" Was all he could think to ask.

"I have failed my duties as a spartan. I know what must be done. But I do not have the strength to do it." 

'I cannot suppress these feelings.' He could not stop these inexplicably abnormal...urges, he felt igniting within his previously unlit heart. The spartan had wanted to feel her lips against his, to feel the softness of her body in his arms. Such base desires were unsuitable of a warrior such as he, and he felt that he was malfunctioning. He did not understand these strange intentions afflicting his thoughts like a disease, nor did he like them. Something was wrong with him, yet he knew not what. This was so far beyond his understanding that he felt undeniably lost as ever plagued by the uncertainty that had followed him since the moment he showed up in this place.

"Do I have your permission to disband?" He questioned Fox. Six reasoned it would be in his best interests to leave. The spartan did not want these feelings, the changes they wrought inside him. The only way he could see of putting an end to them would be to distance himself from their source.

The vulpine was startled. He had not thought his return would be immediately onset by such difficulties. He still did not know why Six was now so adamant on leaving. Though the spartan had been cleared of suspicion and the CDF would not have to worry about him becoming an enemy. That had been the original reason Fox had allowed Six to join the team, but...after all this time. Fox did not think that mattered. The spartan was his friend, as close to him as either Falco, Slippy, or Peppy. He was dependable, loyal, and Fox knew there was more to him then what he so disspationately displayed.

"I am sorry Six, but no." Fox was not willing to give up on him now. The spartan was just going through a rough patch was all, and the vulpine intended to see him through it.

"Very well..." Six nodded in weary resignation. "I will abide by your decision, Fox." Despite his personal wants, in the end Fox was still his commander and no matter what, as long as that held true he would serve faithfully, even if it caused him grief. As a spartan he would do that much.

Fox chuckled softly and shook his muzzle. "Sheesh, Six. You don't have to act like I just ordered you to kill yourself. Here, why don't you have some, it'll settle your nerves." The vulpine proffered his flask for him to take.

"What is this?" He inquired, taking the metal container and peering into the open tab and its swirling amber fluid.

"Whiskey, it's got a real kick to it, but nothing's better to ease one's worries." Fox explained with a grin, glad that he had managed to distract the spartan from his somber mood.

The promise of easing his concerns was tempting, so Six tipped the flask back and downed the entirety of its contents.

"Whoa there, you're supposed to savor it!" Fox yapped as he lunged forwards to grab the carafe before the spartan consumed it all, and curious to see what his reaction would be. He was then suitably dumbstruck as the soldier showed no outwards reaction.

Six allowed Fox to take the container from his hands. This...whiskey....as Fox had called it, was not all that bad. It had a mild bite to it he would admit. But it was hardly worthy of note, though he did find the warmth that trickled down his throat to be somewhat soothing. Perhaps he would buy some of this whiskey along with his new clothing?

"It...it's all gone." Fox mewled desolately, shaking the container out in his maw for any last drop of the precious amber liquid. That had been the last of the gift he received from Pepper after the end of the war, Aquan Firebrand Whiskey, aged two hundred years....and Six drank it all in one gulp. If he wanted another bottle it would cost him a small fortune, it was worth far more than its weight in gold.

"You...drank it all." The vulpine whispered in shock, dropping the empty flask to the floor in despair.

"Is...is that a problem?" Six asked innocently.

"No...no problem at all." Fox replied with a forced smile, his teeth grinding silently together.

"Are you alright Fox?"

 

The vulpine was beginning to look rather pale.

"Oh I'm fine, just a little tired." He groaned, sighing as he grabbed his bandana turned scarf, squeezing it in the hopes of wringing out a few more drops of the liquid gold, and whimpering in despair as nothing came out.

"Perhaps I should help you to your bed." He did not know what was wrong with his commander, but he looked like he needed rest. Six rose from his seat and guided Fox to his bed. As he helped Fox, he could have sworn he heard the vulpine muttering something about "Aquan", "two hundred years", and "fortune".

Truly, non-spartans were strange beings.

Helping the almost comatose Fox into his bed and under the covers, Six turned to head back outside.

"Hey Six, where are you going to sleep?" The vulpine asked, tiredly. The loss of his whiskey had stuck a serious blow and he was exhausted from the long day he had. But he was still concerned over his friend's wellbeing.

"I think I'll enjoy the company of the stars tonight." The spartan rumbled softly, there was still much for him to think on. Fox had provided only a temporary distraction and he had still not forgotten what it was that troubled him.

"Aww don't be like that, we can share the bed." Fox offered.

He had no intention of making Six sleep outside or on the ground. Nor was he willing to give up his bed, so he would compromise. It wasn't all that big of a deal anyways, he had shared a bed with his dad growing up anyways, especially after his mother had died. And for some strange reason, this felt no different. Fox saw a lot of his father in Six. They both had that permeant stern expression and that stoic disposition. James Mccloud had been a taciturn tod, and rarely showed his softer side. Despite that he had been a peerless mercenary and an awesome dad. Fox felt that Six was much the same. He kind of reminded Fox of what he imagined an older brother to be, though an odd one at that.

The spartan baulked at the idea. "I-I assure you Fox, I'll be fine."

 

"Don't be such a baby, it's just a bed." He couldn't see why Six was making such a big deal out of this.

On the reverse side, Six was not so enthused by the idea. He had shared quarters before, but never a bed. That was one level of privacy he had yet to have broken. That was where he had drawn the line before.

"Don't make me order you." Fox joked, not realizing Six would take him seriously.

'If that is to be, then so be it.' Six frowned as he approached the bed. Thankfully, it was very large, with more than enough room for him and Fox to have a bearable space apart. But that was little comfort as the spartan lay down. It was difficult for him to get situated, but he was able to find a somewhat comfortable position, lying flat on his back with his eyes studying the plain white ceiling, observing the dimpled texture in great detail.

The spartan felt the bed move as Fox found his own spot.

"Good night Six." The vulpine muttered tiredly, already fading off into slumber.

"Sleep well Fox." He replied quietly, finding that it was actually quite...calming having another in the bed, though not in the way he had first projected. Six set his internal clock for the usual time and shut his body down, soon drifting off to sleep.

His last thoughts on how strange his life had become.

 

*****

 

The first thing Six noticed upon awakening was the strange tingling warmth wrapped around his midsection. Confused, he tried to sit up, but met firm resistance. Now troubled, he glanced down to see what was restraining him.

'Fox...!?' His eyes widened in shock.

The vulpine was hugging his chest, his muzzle resting on Six's abdomen as he snored softly, still unconscious. It seemed that in sleep he had no concept of personal space. It was an odd sight, but not all that uncomfortable. In actuality it brought back an old memory of when he had been a child. It was not all that clear, but he did recall that he used to have a dog that did something very similar, though that was an animal and this was a sentient being. Still, he should probably move him.

Six placed an arm on Fox's shoulder with the intent to push him away when the vulpine reacted to his touch, rubbing his muzzle into the spartan's chest and squeezing tighter, his tail thumping quietly underneath the covers.

"Dad..." Fox whispered softly, a tear falling from a closed eye.

Six halted himself, tilting his head to the side and staring at the vulpine quizzically, leaving his hand on the vulpine's shoulder.

That was...curious.

The spartan's hand moved of its own accord to Fox's head, right between his ears where that crested mohawk of white fur was, subconsciously scratching that particular area. Slowly, the vulpine's involuntary frown disappeared, replaced by a smile.

"I miss you..." Fox murmured sleepily, though his tears had disappeared.

Six's lips curled upwards in the barest fraction as he continued to brush the fur between the vulpine's ears.

Perhaps he did more than cause pain?

 

*****

 

Fox woke up feeling particularly happy. He had a dream about his father, and it had been a pleasant one. His dad had hugged him and told him how much he loved him and how proud he was. Fox had never had a dream like that before, and it was one of the better ones in regards to his deceased parent.

Sitting up, he looked to the other side of the bed and noticed that Six was absent, as was the spartan's armor from its place on the floor. For a second, Fox was worried that the spartan had abandoned him, but he calmed himself down. Six was loyal enough that the vulpine knew he would not leave unless he was ordered to.

Instead he decided to find out where it was Six had gone. Fox had forgotten to tell him the news about the drop pod.

The vulpine left his room and wandered the villa in search of Six, the first yet the first person he quite literally bumped into was Krystal. The two collided roughly and the vixen fell to the ground, lacking her usual grace.

"Krys, are you okay?" He asked worriedly as he helped her up to her feet. When he saw her face, his concerned frown deepened. "Krys...what's wrong?"

The vixen was a mess, her hair was little more than a rats nest and her fur was a matted mess. Krystal was barely even wearing clothes, just ragged pajamas that looked carelessly thrown on. What's worse, her eyes were bloodshot and she had a box of tissues in one paw.

"N-Nothing...I'm fine." She mumbled waiving him away and trying to step past him..

"No. Clearly you're not." He shook his head and grabbed her shoulder. "Now tell me, what's gotten into you?"

"I...I" She stuttered moments before she fell against him in tears, a blubbering and broken mess.

All Fox could do was hold onto her and wait until she stopped sobbing, wondering what in the world had happened to her.

Once she had settled down a little, Fox cleaned her up and took her back to her room where he demanded to know the whole story. As he listened to her pained tale amidst her quiet sniffling, he realized why Six had been so distraught the night before. Yet, he could not see what the spartan's problem was. Why was he so afraid to accept her affection to the point where he had requested to leave the team? Krystal was a good woman, Six should have been glad to know that she liked him. Yet it seemed to have an adverse effect on him.

"What do I do Fox?" Krystal demanded with a whimper as she looked up him pleadingly. "I...I like him. I don't know why, but I feel good when I'm around him. He makes me happy. And I know he must feel the same. He has to. So why won't he show it?"

Honestly, Fox didn't know what was going through the spartan's mind at any point in time. He was far more alien in thought then appearance. The vulpine still did not know what it was that truly drove Six, what he lived for.

"Don't worry Krys, I'll talk to him." He needed to talk to Six anyways. Technically, he was only the leader of their mercenary band and so this was not really of his concern. But Fox had long ago considered them more like a family or at the least close friends. And if there were problems with them, he would do his best to help.

"You will?" Krystal asked, a brief glimmer of hope flashing across her eyes.

"Yep, I have to take him with me to see Beltino anyways and we can talk on the way." He replied with a confident grin.

"Oh thank you!" The vixen hugged him in gratitude.

"Yeah sure, no problem." Fox chuckled easily, patting her on the back. A brief thought flashed in his mind, wondering what things would have been like if different choices had been made in his life. This embrace might have been more than familial affection.

But those thoughts were pointless so Fox left Krystal to sit on her room and looked for the spartan.

'You're certainly just about as much trouble as I thought you would be.' The vulpine supposed, laughing softly to himself as he searched for his friend.

 

*****

 

It was not all that difficult to find Six, he knew the spartan's MO by this point and figured that he would not be very far. Six was most likely somewhere quiet with a low amount of foot traffic, the best place to look would be somewhere on the second floor or the garden outside. His scan of the second floor came up empty so he made his way back down and outside, finding his target soon afterwards.

The spartan sat at one of the stone benches, once more cloaked in his impressive suit of armor. His left bracer was removed and it looked like he was smoothing out the battle damage with a miniature device no bigger than one of his fingers. It seemed to emit a short range, high intensity laser to scour the marks and even-out the grooves caused by years of war. Hearing the vulpine approach, Six extinguished the device and turned his helmet to face him.

"Fox..."

 

"Hey Six." He replied, stopping a few feet from the spartan.

"Is there something you need? Or have you reconsidered my request?" Six inquired mildly as he stowed away the odd tool in a hardcase on his thigh.

"I haven't changed my mind about that." The vulpine shook his head. "I need you to come with me. Dr. Beltino has finished his work on the drop pod prototype and he wished to have you come and inspect it and possibly offer your input." Since Six had prior knowledge to these machines, it only made sense that he might be able to see anything they might have missed.

"It is finished? Excellent. When do we leave?" The spartan inquired as he rose to his full height, a low thrum emitting from the powered armor.

"Now." Fox replied, motioning for Six to follow him.

Complying dutifully, the soldier fell in step behind the vulpine, following him out to the parked hovercar at the front of the villa. Entering the car, Fox and the spartan quickly departed and made for the city.

As he drove, Fox occasionally glanced at his hulking passenger, trying desperately to formulate a way to speak what was on his mind. How exactly was he supposed to broach the issue regarding the spartan's personal matters? If this had been Slippy or even Falco he imagined it would be easier. But he was talking to Six, the sole embodiment of war. Fox did not think it would be best to start off with 'Why don't you love her?' That might be a little too blunt, even for a guy like Six.

Still...why was he so afraid to show emotion? The only reason Fox could think was that it might be that she was of a different species. Obviously to him, she was beautiful. Maybe Six's people had different tastes? It could be that her features did not appeal to him. But the spartan did not seem to have any problem with her or the others before and he had been adjusting rather well to them. No. It had to be more than that.

Was his issue one deeper set?

Fox could only assume that it might have something to do with his older days, a result of his war fraught past. He remembered what the spartan had spoken of, what he was and what he had fought. Perhaps that was the root of all this?

"Hey...Six?" Fox spoke with an air of casualness as he split his attention between piloting the hovercar and conversing with the spartan.

In response the soldier shifted his helm to face the vulpine.

Fox paused for a moment, finalizing how he was going to do this. In the end he decided to be both blunt and elusive.

"So...did you spend some time with the team yesterday?" He asked, briefly glancing at the spartan to see his reaction.

Six remained motionless, replying in an almost frustratingly neutral tone.

"Yes."

 

The vulpine nodded slowly to himself, outwardly relaxed but inwardly exasperated with Six's neutrality. "Okay...cool." He returned his focus on driving for a few minutes before he tried again.

"Say Six, you've been with us a little while. I was wondering if you had thoughts on the team." His eyes swiveled towards the spartan, intently.

"They are...adequate." Six replied with the faintest trace of hesitancy, Fox's powerful vulpine ears scarcely able to detect it.

"Do you have any thoughts on anyone particular?" Fox pushed, nonchalantly.

"I have compiled profiles on each member of the team." The human replied, just as indifferently.

"Really...?" Fox quirked an eyebrow. "Do you have one for me?"

"Of course." Six answered without missing a beat.

"Well then, pray tell." The vulpine proposed eagerly, curious to hear the spartan's opinion on him.

Six went silent for a brief time, whether from reluctance or simply gathering his thoughts was unknown to Fox.

In actuality, the supersoldier had pulled the dossier he had collected on the vulpine and was displaying it on his HUD to confer with his data in real time. It was on odd request from his commander, but one he could fulfill.

"Fox Mccloud..." Six read off his accumulated data with the formality that had been bred into him. "Commander of the Starfox Mercenary team, even-tempered, cunning, dedicated, and an experienced fighter pilot displaying exemplary combat abilities on the field, Fox is a capable leader with a promising future." There were several pages of relevant combat data and his personal hypotheses on certain things, but that was all just additional statistics that were not currently relevant.

Hearing such high praise from the spartan was enormously humbling. Six was the greatest warrior Fox had ever encountered, and to hear him say those things, think so highly of him...Fox could not figure out what to say.

"You...you really think so?"

"I never falsify data." Six replied frankly.

Fox grinned. His confidence boosted by the spartan's words. He would endeavor to live up to Six's interpretation of him. But, that was not what he was trying to find out here. Fox was trying to help Krystal out.

Remembering that, he shifted his line of inquiry.

"If that's what you have for me. What do you have on Krystal?" He wondered.

Fox noticed an immediate shift in Six's stance. The spartan's helmet twitched marginally and he leaned back into his seat by a few millimeters. He did not speak for a length of time, the city coming into focus outside the windshield and coming a great deal closer before he finally spoke.

"Krystal..." Six rumbled softly, lacking his usual despondency. His tone instead carried an untellable edge. "Second in command of Starfox and a telepath, she...."

 

The spartan stopped seemingly at a loss for words.

Fox slowed the car, turning to study Six with newfound curiosity. He had expected a reaction, but not one like this.

"She..." Six pressed on. "She is an able pilot, though not properly suited for warfare. She suffers from an excess of empathetic thoughts and actions that could result in her death on a battlefield setting. She is too compassionate and kind for this profession. Recommendation...reassignment to civilian life."

 

Fox winced. That sounded a little harsh and was not at all what he had been expecting. Yet the vulpine felt as if he sensed an ulterior motive to the spartan's words. He sounded almost...protective of her.

As interesting as this information was, Fox was not sure how to respond and chose to remain silent. Perhaps after he and Six finished with Beltino they would speak more on this.

 

*****

 

Six followed after his commander as Fox led them towards an imposing structure buried deep inside the military compound. The base sat all the way across the sprawling city, far from the public eye. It was an impressive installation...for aliens. Several kilometers in width and protected by towering fortress walls and a visible network of automated turrets, it was perhaps the biggest display of cornerian military might he had yet to encounter.

Upon arrival, Fox had to give several clearance codes before they let him land and they had been greeted by a squad of soldiers, the same variety as he had seen on Zoness.

Six had been...impressed.

He so far he had noticed a distinct lack of martial discipline amongst their forces and this was a refreshing sight and somewhat comforting in its familiarity. It seemed that their army was not completely hopeless.

Nearing the building, Six heard what sounded like an odd mash between a scorpion's growling engine and the high pitched whine of a pelican's turbines. Curious, he turned his head to see a tank rumble its way down the main thoroughfare of the base, a squad of soldiers following closely behind it. The vehicle caught his interest, being of an unfamiliar design.

Unlike the cars he had seen so far, this machine carried itself along with the aid of heavy-duty treads, much like a scorpion MBT. And like a scorpion, it had a turret mounted cannon. But that was all they had in similarities. This tank was far smaller than the ones Six was accustomed to, only half the length and width of its human counterpart. From its size, the spartan assumed that it only needed one person to control it, with the cockpit concealed under a thin layer of armored plating. Following the color scheme of the rest of the CDF, the tank was painted in green and silver.

Six studied the war machine up until the point it disappeared behind a curve on the road, reminding himself to brush up on cornerian army vehicles in the future, logging it down as something to do if he ever had any more of this "free time".

The spartan caught up with Fox just as the vulpine reached the building's doors, having slowed a little in his observations. Once inside, they endured the usual security screenings, this time without complaint, and he continued to accompany Fox as the vulpine made his way through the building.

As usual the spartan's presence was a point of interest, any staff or soldiers they encountered pausing to gawk at him in awe. Six gave them about as much notice as he did anyone else that he did not consider important, scanning them for threats and dismissing them when proving to be otherwise.

Eventually he and Fox arrived at their destination, it laying several stories underground. They stepped out of an elevator and into a laboratory, a huge chamber surrounded by sterling whitewashed walls and covered in holographic displays. The large room was swollen with a flurry of activity, dozens of individuals filling its void and catering to the rash of electronic equipment spread throughout. At the center of it all was something both familiar and alien.

It looked like a drop pod, but it was not quite right.

The quasi-HEV was smaller than those of standard UNSC construction and in his eyes it looked rather...fragile.

Fox stood beside Six, the vulpine's eyes sifting through the scientists. After a few moments his eyes widened and he grinned, waving as he walked into the crowd. Six uneasily watched his commander as he was enveloped in the laboratory's general chaos and vanished from sight.

Knowing that he had to follow his leader, Six inhaled deeply to steady his nerves and followed after him. It was easy for the spartan to wade through the scientists, the various labcoats stumbling away from him in shock, their surprise soon degenerating into wonder as they took in his imposing frame. A wave of muttering cascaded away from him, the researchers discussing amongst themselves in hushed tones, Six frowned, able to easily pick up their chatter.

If they so much as laid a paw on his armor with the intent to study he would not be held accountable for his ensuing actions. Forcing himself to endure their whispering with iron hard discipline and hardened patience, Six searched for Fox, finding the vulpine right next to the outlandish drop pod and conversing with a toad that looked a lot like Slippy.

Once closer, both vulpine and toad noticed him.

"This must be Six. There can be no other to fit such an...interesting description." The amphibian grinned up at him through a pair of spectacles.

The toad's gaze made Six feel as if he was lying upon an examination table, it was...unsettling.

"Yeah that's him. Six, this here is Dr. Beltino, the one in charge of the drop pod research program." Fox gestured towards the doctor with an open paw.

"Ah yes...Project ARCHANGEL...." Beltino sighed, turning his attention to the large cylinder dominating the center of the room, the pod connected to a wide array of electronics revealing screens packed with data. "Quite an ambitious project I must admit. Long have we tossed around the ideas for orbital infantry deployment, but until now we have not put much effort into such avenues of utilization. Many of my fellow researchers have called this foolhardy or suicidal. And from what we have learned so far, I am starting to agree."

"But doesn't it work?" Fox asked in confusion. From what Pepper had told him it did.

"That's what preliminary testing suggests." The toad admitted, facing Fox and Six once more. "But we lack hard data. Until we test this device I cannot guarantee the veracity of our findings, unless of course we receive some insider help. " Beltino admitted, focusing on Six. "I have been told it was your urging that reactivated the project, that you have knowledge that could help finalize it."

"Correct." Six nodded. He had information for SOEIVs both in his memory and solid records stored in his MJOLNIR's systems. He had amassed info on all manners of UNSC equipment over the years. There was no telling when one might need it. While not enough to understand how to build them from scratch, it was enough so that he had an innate comprehension of the gear he would have to rely upon in the field.

"Then you will be of instrumental help in getting this project finished post haste!" Dr. Beltino exclaimed happily. The toad gestured for Six and Fox to follow him to a room away from the loud noises of the laboratory.

Once inside, he moved to a holo interface and pulled up the machine's schematics. "Please, take a look. Mayhaps you might see something we could have missed."

Six stepped forwards, eyeing the design of the cornerian prototype. He split his HUD as he observed the holoscreen, displaying the data on a SOEIV beside the diagram of the cornerian model.

At a glance he was able to detect several discrepancies. The CDF model was much smaller, and would barely accommodate one of his size, but then again he accustomed that to their specie's specific short stature. Wanting to get a look at its inner workings, he tapped on the holographic representation of the pod, watching as its cover faded, revealing the mechanical nature of its interior. There were of course several things he could not at first identify do to its alien nature, such as the hatch release bolts, the emergency chute lever, and the tech screen for mission data. But after a few minutes of study he was able to locate them.

All in all the drop pod appeared functional, though there were flaws, It did not have a suitable amount of outer armor to protect from reentry, and what was more worrisome was that he could only see the placement for the emergency chute, not the primary nor secondary.

When he voiced his question on them, he was not ready for the answer.

"There is no need for those." Beltino replied easily, gesturing to a part of the pod he had yet to notice, two small devices, on the top and bottom. "The G-diffusers function is to slow the craft to a reasonable speed before it hits the ground. With these activated, the occupant will hardly feel the force of the landing. They also provide stabilization for the pod and help it orientate during the descent."

If they did as the toad then that was certainly impressive. The UNSC relied on chutes to slow the pods down and that often resulted in failure. The way these cornerians had it, the chance for machine error with their pods would be magnitudes lower than that of a SOEIV. In fact, these would be even more efficient and would greatly increase the user's chances of survival.

If only they had access to this G-diffusion tech, they might have stood a better chance in the war.

If such was the case, then besides its lack of additional armor, there was nothing really wrong with the machine.

They spent a few more minutes discussing the finer point of the machine, coming to agreement that it needed more armor. When that was settled, they arrived at their order of business.

"Well, it should only take another day to graft some additional armor onto the pod, and then we can test it." Beltino decided as he stood up from the seat he had taken.

Six shook his head. "No test. How soon until can you deploy it?"

 

The toad's bald head tilted back in surprise. "You cannot be serious? We need to run at least a handful of trials before we can clear it for use."

"There is no time for that. It is needed as soon as possible. The mission will serve as its trial." Six replied adamantly.

"While I understand the need for haste, certain precautions have to be met." Beltino stressed urgently.

But Six was not willing to reverse his earlier declaration. "Risks must be taken, Fortuna cannot hold indefinitely. If it works, it must work now."

 

Hearing the resolute tenor of the spartan, Beltino sighed in acceptance and shook his head. "I think this is a poor decision, but seeing as you are going to use this, such dangers are of your own doing. However, The Great Fox still has to be retrofitted to launch the pod. We have already started the reconstruction of its torpedo bay, but it will need at least two more days before the engineers finish. I shall run a few more diagnostics in that time."

Six nodded, turning to Fox to see if that was acceptable, remembering that he still had a chain of command to follow.

The vulpine nodded uncertainly. "Alright Six, if you think this is necessary, I'll roll with it." He had his reservations about using it so recklessly, but he trusted that Six knew what he was doing.

With everything sorted out, Fox bid Beltino farewell and Six once more followed his commander outside, back to their car.

The fly back to the villa was spent in silence, Fox wanted to try and broach the subject of Krystal again but upon observing the spartan's silent mask, he decided to wait till tomorrow.

Somethings would just have to wait.

When they arrived back at the villa, Fox watched as Six departed in silence, disappearing somewhere inside the huge home. He had not managed to uncover his issues and was not welcoming his next talk with Krystal.

Sighing, the vulpine went inside.

The next few days were going to be tough.


	15. Acceptance

Chapter 14: Acceptance

As Fox anticipated, the next few days had been...strenuous. Six had once more withdrawn himself from the world, spending his days either at the rec center or off in the forest doing god knows what. Krystal had not taken this well, the vixen retreating into her room, most likely to brood on her sorrows. And the rest of the team did as they usually did, not really all that affected, though Miyu also seemed to be in the downwards straights. The feline had attempted to broach conversation with the spartan at the times he was present, but she was firmly rejected at every turn.

Fox could only wonder what was going through Six's mind. The spartan had been doing so well before this whole incident with Krystal, now it seemed he had fallen to his old ways with a silent fury. The vulpine supposed he could have just ordered Six to fess up on his problems, but he feared such a demand would result in the loss of the soldier's respect. No. This would have to be handled a different way. If he could not uncover the reason behind the spartan's reclusion, there was only one who could.

The only problem was that they had run out of time for that. The Great Fox's torpedo bay had been retrofitted to accommodate a tube to fit the drop pod and the machine had been loaded up yesterday.

So, seeing no immediate solution, Fox gave the order for them to return to the ship. The resulting trip back had been mostly noiseless, the ambient moods heavily affected by Six's silence. When back aboard, the spartan was quick to disappear into his quarters as they prepped for launch.

In fact no one heard from him until they were several hours into their voyage.

The first person to see him had been Slippy, the toad encountering the spartan down in engineering, finding the soldier as he tended to his weapons.

*****

"Hey Six..." The amphibian greeted the silent warrior as he entered, heading over to his projects.

The spartan nodded in soundless reception as he oiled the detached barrel of his sniper rifle; the weapon stripped down into its constituting parts and located on the table in front of him with his usual military precision.

As Slippy worked, he glanced over to Six, disappointed at his aloofness. He had thought that Six had fallen out of that, but it looked like he had been wrong. Wanting to at least get a few words out of him, the toad began to speak.

"I'm sorry, but I won't be able to finish work on your weapons by the time that we arrive at Fortuna. There are still a few things I need to do."

Six's gauntlet stopped, the cloth draped over the partially oiled barrel as the spartan glanced up from his weapon. "That is acceptable. I have other equipment to use in the meantime." He grunted disinterestedly, his gauntlet resuming motion.

"Oh okay...cool." Slippy replied, frowning as he went back to work.

As the toad tooled away, the spartan decelerated his maintenance on his firearm and tilted his helm up slightly, studying his alien companion as he toiled away. After a few moments his work speed resumed its pace and the warrior returned his attention back to his weapon.

Trying to puzzle out the problem with the weapon he was trying to design, Slippy heard the door open and close. The toad looked over his shoulder and saw that Six had departed the room, leaving him on his own.

Slippy shrugged, uncertain as to what exactly was eating at the spartan. But there was nothing he could do for him, besides finish what he had been working on for the past two weeks, and so the toad went back to work.

*****

Miyu entered the armory with a sigh, gazing into the mirrored surface of the deck below her. The last few days had been particularly stressful, with Six turning even more antisocial then when they had first met. She remembered the when she tried to speak with him after he and Fox returned from wherever it was they went. The spartan had not even dained to acknowledge her, brushing past the feline as she approached and going inside the villa.

Any further attempt by her to speak with him after that point had ended with similar results, he dismissing her labors at every turn. Miyu was at a loss as to what to do now. The cat was furious with him for being so belligerent, yet at the same time she worried over him. Something had changed in him shortly after they spoke, something strong enough to alter his already heavily reclusive routine.

Coinciding with this, Miyu had also noticed Krystal acting strangely. The usually lively and joyful vixen had become much like the spartan, spending her time in seclusion. Additionally, the unkempt appearance of her friend was great cause for concern. It was as if she just simply stopped caring, and Miyu didn't know why.

Now they had another mission coming up, even more dangerous than the last, and two members of the team were acting out of sorts. Such distractions did not bode well and if it was not somehow resolved before they deployed, it could prove to be a fatal diversion.

"What the heck is going on?" The feline muttered as she entered the armory. At the least she could check on her gear before she needed it. Even though she was going to be using her interceptor, it didn't hurt to make sure her other equipment was functioning. In the extremely unlikely event that she was shot down, she would need that stuff to keep herself alive.

Miyu wandered over to her locker and popped it open with her PIN code, reaching inside and pulling two sidearms from the anchors latched onto the sides of the rectangular container. They were just two of the many she had collected since her first days as a mercenary and it might be considered unnecessary to have so many, but Miyu was a firm believer in one of the several mercenary golden rules...always bring backups. Carrying them in one paw, the feline leaned back inside and pulled out her flight suit, the custom tailored uniform having been patched up a few days after they landed back on Corneria.

Seeing the freshly mended gash in the suit sent a tingle of phantom pain shooting to her side. Even after having been fixed up, her side still occasionally bothered her. The sight of the new repair kindled her memory, the cat recalling how close she had been to death. If not for Six's quick thinking she would have met her end that day. Miyu wondered where she would be at that moment if he had never entered her life. It was possible she would not be standing where she was.

She briefly considered putting the uniform back on but eventually decided against it. Right now she was comfortable in her regular outfit. No need to suit up with the mission still a few days away, Fortuna a two day trip by warpdrive. It sucked that Beltino's Orbital Gate was still offline, the thing was scheduled to be back up almost a month ago, but the invasion and reignited war put that on hold as other projects needed the toad's attention. If it was back in action they would have reached Fortuna within a few hours rather than days.

Shrugging, Miyu hung it back on the hook and shut her locker, turning to use the workbench sitting by the firing range. It was a little on the small side, compacted to fit in the dreadnaughts smaller rooms, but it was enough for the team to use, not that many ever did. Mainly Falco and herself were the only ones to spend time down here, with Fox occasionally making his way down to brush up on his impressive skills with his blaster. Peppy considered himself too old to worry about stuff like that and Slippy was not much of a shooter to begin with. Krystal preferred using her staff, with the rare occasion of bringing her toy out from its pedestal. Miyu was still surprised that a dainty vixen like her could use something like that. And from what she had seen, Krystal's expertise with the hefty weapon was not all that bad either.

Miyu had a random thought, wondering what it would be like to see Six wielding that beast, grinning at the image formulating itself in her head.

It would be pretty badass.

Tossing the pair of handblasters onto the worktable, the feline reached under and pulled out the drawer, shuffling around for a toolkit. As she fished for the pack of tools, her hooped ear flickered, detecting a new noise originating from behind her. Curious, Miyu glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Six standing at the other side of the room.

The spartan seemed to be distracted by the task he had placed before himself, the soldier disassembling one of the blasters that had been hanging on a wall mount. As it stood he had managed to pull apart the main chassis of the weapon and was examining the glowing red gem that had once been locked inside a small crystal tube.

Miyu kept her gaze on him, Six grasping the tiny crimson jewel in a two-fingered grip.

He rotated it in his gauntlet, studying every angle of its multifaceted geometries. Holding the stone up to the device on his wrist, Miyu watched as a blue light traveled up and down the object in his hand. After a few moments the light shut off and Six placed the gem back into its tube, shifting his attention to his wrist mounted apparatus. The spartan waited until the display lit up, a sheet of information scrolling across the tiny rectangular screen.

Letting out a nearly inaudible grunt, Six slapped the device closed and fiddled with the weapon, deftly reassembling it within moments and returning it to the rack on which it had laid before his arrival.

As he turned to examine the next weapon, Miyu fought with herself, trying to find the courage to approach him once more. She wanted to speak with him, but was not sure how. Before, it had been easy for her to just walk up and let it rip, but now she lacked the grit to do even that.

Pondering on her predicament, the feline glanced down at the table, an idea suddenly taking hold.

Leaving her weapons behind, she strode over to him, stopping a few feet away. She knew he had probably already noticed her the moment she arrived.

As predicted, Six set down the rifle he had been inspecting and lifted his visored helm to her, silently observing the now nervous cat.

"Miyu..." He growled cordially, greeting her.

"Hey Six, watcha doing?" She inquired, though she already had a pretty good idea as to what it was he was in the process of trying to accomplish.

"Research..." He replied impartially, picking up the gun he had dropped with the intent to return to his task.

"Do you need some help?" She wondered, hoping that he would take her up on her offer. At this point she was willing to take what she could get from him. Though she wondered why she needed to hear the sound of his voice.

Six mulled over her proposal, palming the blaster in his hands as he deliberated on whether or not to accept it. Shrugging, he gave her a terse nod and tilted his head in a motion for her to follow. "Your aid would expedite my study."

Grinning happily at her success, Miyu followed the spartan.

Despite the rather cut and dry tone of the conversation, she was just glad he was talking to her. It beat the hell out his previous wall of silence. As she instructed him on the finer aspects of the inner workings of blaster technology, the lynx felt a strange sense of content. Six's deep, rolling voice was pleasant to listen to, and while most girls might have been turned off by his gruff speech pattern, to her it was not an issue. She liked things a little rough, it kept life interesting.

She was not sure how long it was they talked, but by the end she was feeling ravenous. She had been denied the chance to grab a meal before they set off and she intended to head up to the common room to rectify that concern.

Putting back together the weapon she had been using as a demonstration tool, Miyu glanced at Six. With him back in his armor she was unable to read his expressions, and with his nearly constant detached tone, that was the only way she could get a sense of his current state of emotions.

Not to mention she had been denied the sight of his fairly attractive features.

"Hey Six, do you wanna grab something to eat?" She asked with an air of hopefulness.

Yet her confidence was dashed as he shook his head.

"I am not hungry, perhaps at a later time." He dipped his head in gratitude. "Your help today was greatly appreciated. Until next..." Leaving with that, Six exited the armory and left her to her own devices.

Although disappointed, Miyu was still happy. It was not often the spartan doled out gratitude, and that made it all the more precious. Sighing wistfully, she too left. After all, she was still hungry, whether he joined her or not

Though...it would have been far more pleasant if he had chosen to go with her.

*****

Peppy turned away from Krystal's room with a frown. The vixen had refused to see him, and he did not know why. He had noticed her grim demeanor shortly before they departed and upon inquiring as to what was troubling her he had been firmly denied. This was not all that uncommon for her to do. Occasionally she would fall into a dark mood, always associated with reminiscing on the loss of her home. But this time felt different. It had been a month by his records since the last time she became like this, stopping almost immediately after Six had joined the crew. And this incident seemed to illicit a stronger reaction from her than any previous. Peppy had a feeling the spartan was, in some way, pertinent to this variation in her usual tempers.

The hare had his suspicions. He had lived a long life and witnessed many things for himself, and he was certain that Krystal had contracted some form of puppy love in regards to Six. He had seen many cases like it, young women falling for bad boys, not that Six fit that type of description in any way. To compare him to them would be laughable, but it was the closest term he could devise. The spartan was a far cry from someone like that. His darkness was a very real thing. Peppy had seen it for himself in Six's eyes. That man had seen and been party to a great deal of suffering in his life, the spartan still carried a plentitude of secrets with him. And Peppy was not all that sure if it was wise to keep him on.

He had seen a few cases like Six in the past, but this had to set the record on the severest he had encountered. The sheer level of disassociation with his environment and lack of empathetic actions was a scientific curiosity. Most serial killers showed more emotion then Six. Yet contrasting his analysis, the hare had never met a single person with such a predilection for loyalty and obedience. It was as if he was hardwired to behave that way. Peppy had a suspicion that if Fox ordered the spartan to pull a gun on himself he would do so without question; such was the belief in his necessity to obey orders. This concerned Peppy somewhat, what his military must have forced upon him to elicit such a conviction. Without a doubt he had been subjected to heavy indoctrination, likely at a very young age where it would be the most effective.

Peppy felt pity for Six. No one deserved to be put through such horrors of the likes he had spoken of and no doubt endured.

He could see why Krystal might be attached to him, something about broken men seemed to draw certain types of women. She was a tender soul and he was unequivocally, a damaged individual. She probably had started off wanting to help him, only drawing herself further in. If this was true, and the vixen had fallen for the spartan, Peppy was not sure if it was a shallow affection or one more meaningful. Perhaps she had discovered something in him that she liked? What that was, he did not know.

But he did know that Six would not understand any advances she might try to make. He was simply not geared to comprehend that type of scenario. If what Peppy suspected was true, and the spartan was a product of the immoral conduct of child soldiery, then he very well might not understand a great deal of the aspects of life that did not involve war.

The more he considered it, the more he suspected this to be the reason for Krystal's dour mood. She had most likely attempted to show her affection, and he had in all possibility reacted in a definitively negative way. Someone like him encountering an unfamiliar situation would withdraw from it and into himself. Yes. That must be it. It explained her mood and the spartan's reclusion.

The hare rubbed his chin, shaking his muzzle in pity.

Poor Krystal, she has no idea what she's getting herself into. Peppy doubted that Six would ever return her affection. 

Peppy looked up and was surprised to find Six standing behind him, though he doubted the spartan had even bothered to acknowledge his presence, the soldier reaching for the keypad to his personal quarters.

"Greetings Six."

The spartan's gloved fingers halted millimeters from the entry button, his helm swiveling towards the hare.

"Peppy...." The warrior hailed him with a curt and respectful tilt of his helmet. 

"I don't believe we have had the chance to speak in recent days. Tell me, how are you?" The hare was curious to see if he could glean some information from Six, perhaps having a better chance than he had with Krystal. The spartan was likely to speak bluntly, and would hopefully prove to be a better means of learning what exactly was happening.

"I am functioning well enough." Six replied with his accustomed flatness.

"Is that really true?" Peppy wondered aloud.

Six dropped his gauntlet from the doors pad, tightening it. "What is it that you are implying, Hare?" He growled softly.

"Nothing at all my dear boy." He countered with a friendly smile. "But perhaps we can speak in further detail if you are feeling up to it?"

The spartan remained motionless for several seconds and upon finally moving, he keyed open his door and gestured inside, silently.

Taking the signal, Peppy nodded in thanks and entered the spartan's room. This was the first time he was able to see Six's quarters and he could not refute that he was curious to see what the soldier had done with the place.

The hare wouldn't know it, but Six's room could be considered synonymous with his title, spartan. It was devoid of any noticeable personal effects and almost bland in appearance. The only "decorations" as it were, would be the weapons he had lying about in various states. On the table was the long barreled weapon Peppy had seen before, a shotgun he believed it was. Standing erect in orderly columns beside the weapon were the bright red shells it used as munitions. Two other weapons were visible in the small chamber, a small one no bigger than a submachine gun sat on the spartan's bed, next to his pillow, and a mid-sized rifle was leaning on the desk's chair.

Besides those and a few strange devices lying about, not much had changed from when the room had been abandoned, though it had been meticulously cleaned since Six occupied it. Not a spot of dust or a piece of trash could be seen.

Peppy watched as Six entered his room and picked up the rifle, moving it onto the desk beside the shotgun, motioning for him to take the now free seat. As he moved to comply, the spartan took his place against the far wall.

"Now...what is it that you want?" The soldier inquired brusquely, scarcely waiting for Peppy to take his seat.

This elicited a chuckle from the hare. "My dear boy, must every conversation be based on want? Can we not just converse like civilized individuals?"

Six grunted and folded his arms in irritation. "I am no fool. You came here with a purpose, Hare. Tell me what it is and be done with these inane word games."

Peppy could not help but grin and shake his head. "If what you seek is frank and full disclosure then I shall abide." Leaning back in the chair, he carefully removed his glasses and polished them with the hem of his coat. "Tell me Six, what is that you have done to upset Krystal so?"

Almost immediately, the spartan's helmet twitched a fraction. "What are you talking about?"

"Now I may be old..." Peppy admitted with a soft chuckle. "But that does not mean I am senile. I know you are responsible for Krystal's current state." His gaze upon Six hardened. "That young woman means a great deal to me, much like my own daughter. I would like to know if you have hurt her in any way."

"What?" Six demanded in bewilderment. "I would not do something like that...not to her." He added with a quiet rumble.

"That is what you might believe, Six. But there are ways to cause pain without realizing it. And I believe you are rather adept at doing that." Peppy gave the spartan a gentle rebuke.

"I..." Six went silent, his arms tightening together.

"Before you speak, all I ask is that you listen to what I have to say."

The spartan nodded tentatively.

"Good..." Peppy gave his own nod of satisfaction, continuing with his impromptu speech. "Now then, we are all in this team together, and I don't think you have quiet grasped that yet. You may be a great warrior, but that will only take you so far in this life. War is a constant that has existed throughout the ages. But so is love...and family. And we are ever inescapably caught between the two. We can live without one, but not the other. It will be up to you, Six, to find which one that is.... Do you understand?"

"I...I believe so." Six replied hesitantly.

"You would do well to take my advice, Six. I have lived in this system for many years, and though I do not look it now. I have quite a bit of experience in these matters. But I made the wrong decision, and I live with that regret every day of my life. I hope you do not make the same mistake." Peppy informed him with a sad smile, recalling some of the less savory moments in his life.

There was a reason his daughter did not want to speak with him.

If only there was a way to turn back the clock, he would have made so many different choices. But he supposed that's what life was about, making mistakes, learning from them, and teaching the next generation to be that much smarter. And maybe, somewhere off in the future, there would be no more mistakes, no more problems. But that was not now. Now he would have to content himself with helping those he could, like Six. There was hope for the spartan, but not much if he kept on as he did.

"Now with that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, we can go back to my first question. Now think, Six, what might you have done to upset her?"

The spartan seemed to pause, most likely recalling what had occurred days prior. "She took me to some place in the forest, a clearing of sorts, with a waterfall. We talked, and then she...." He stopped, stumbling over what to say next. "I do not what it was she tried to do." He seemed to be genuinely baffled.

Peppy suspected as much. Of course Six would not understand what she was trying to do. He was simply not mentally equipped to handle such things. Knowing that the spartan responded well to candor, it would be best to treat this issue bluntly.

"You must know by now that she has affection for you, Six."

The spartan tilted his helm diffidently, remaining silent.

"Now, I need you to answer my next question honestly. There is no need to be concerned with myself, just speak from the heart. I know you still have one inside there. So tell me, Six, do you share the same sentiment?"

For the first time since Peppy had met him, the spartan turned away. Not once before had the supersoldier ever been the first to flinch. Nor did he answer the question.

"I see... Well in that case I suggest that you find out. " Whatever the case, Peppy had said his piece. Sighing, he rose from his seat, focusing on Six as he made to leave. "Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. And I hope you find what it is you might be looking for, even if you cannot yet see it."

Silence greeted Peppy in response, the spartan remaining as impassive as stone. 

The hare grinned, humming to himself as he left.

Six was not as emotionlessly as he led them to believe. It was just a matter of whether he was able to find them before it was too late.

*****

Fox stood beside the holotable in the CIC, waiting for Six to arrive. They were approaching Fortuna's gravity well and would soon be dropping out of warpspace. That would leave them little time before the spartan would have to take his firsthand test with the newly crafted drop pod. In advance of this, the vulpine had to lay the groundwork for the operation. Little intelligence was had on his objective; numbers, disposition of enemy troop placement, and what type of defenses were all unknown. What they did know was where the base was and what needed to be done to prep for the main assault. So Fox intended to do all he could for his friend in the short term he had been given.

He was not kept waiting long, as Six entered within minutes of his own arrival, the spartan assuming his habitual parade rest stance on the opposite side of the war table.

"Fox..." Six rumble quietly in greeting, the vulpine having come familiar with Si's way of address.

"Hey Six, we don't have a lot of time so we'll have to skip on the pleasantries. We'll arrive in local space within the hour and I'll need you in the pod before that so this will be quick."

The spartan's stance shifted ever so slightly.

With that, Fox cut down to business quickly, activating the table's holo projector and pulling up a section of the planet. "The data we have collated on the venomian compound equates to about fuck all. So you'll be going in blind for all intents and purposes. But as you and I know, it is located somewhere along the western hemisphere, around the D quadrant, right about here." He pointed to a small forested region near a towering mountain. "That means you'll have to find it before you hit planetside and get as close as possible with your pod while you are still able to. Beltino has assured me that the pod's thrusters will be up to the task."

As he briefed Six, Fox was concerned. The spartan was devoid of his usual input, choosing to remain mute. But as much as that troubled him there was little time to dwell on it.

"Likewise, General Pepper has informed me that there might be CDF units in the immediate vicinity since a small firebase is in the area, though their current status is unknown. That means you'll have to watch your fire down there. If you find any local units, you have permission to assume temporary command using the challenge phrase Big Dog, and the attached clearance code 580-2950. Once you reach the installation the choice on what to do is up to you, I won't try to tell you how to fight. I know you have more than enough experience to make your own decisions. However, the most pressing objective is to eliminate the venomian reactors. I suggest you take some explosives down with you. Since I didn't know whether you have your own or not, I sent Miyu down to the torpedo bay with a few cases and she should be putting them in the pod as we speak. Their use is pretty artless, just activate with a button and set a time threshold."

Fox took a deep breath from his longwinded speech, "Once the bombs are set, don't stay and fight, just fall back. We'll be up in the skies with the fleet until we get the all clear. Then we'll head down and have someone swing by in the shuttle to pick you up. Sound easy enough?"

All the spartan had to do was assault an entire military base by himself. Yet, judging from Six's unworried stance, it appeared that was of little concern to him. Affirming Fox's hypothesis, the spartan nodded.

"This should be accomplished shortly."

"Right....of course." Fox grinned, it fading slowly. Despite the knowledge of Six's martial prowess, the vulpine could not help but feel worried himself. Six might very well meet his end down there. And to think of the spartan as dead filled Fox's gut with dread. He had already lost his family to war, and he didn't think he could endure any more deaths. "Just remember the most important objective, Six. Come back alive, that's an order."

For the first time since the meeting began, the spartan showed some emotion, a smile in his tone. "Agreed..."

The vulpine's own grin resurfaced and he shut off the projector, turning to head out of the room. "Right then, let's get this show on the road."

Leading Six through the ship, Fox traveled down to the torpedo bay, the only section of the ship on the same level as the hanger, placed at the end of the hallway besides the elevator. Once they entered, Fox noticed that two others were there, though he had expected there only to be one. Miyu was in the process of loading up the explosives in the separate compartment on the pod. But Krystal was also there, the vixen standing beside the cylindrical entry vehicle with a paw poised on its hull, staring deeply into the steel grey plating.

Krystal was a sight better than the last time Fox had seen her. No longer did she appear to be a ragged mess. Any signs of distress she carried previously had been wiped away and her flight suit was as cleanly pressed as the day she first received it.

At the sight of her, Fox noticed Six stiffen, the spartan visibly affected by her presence. Though he continued on, Six lagged behind, stopping at a distance from the pod. Sensing that his friend was troubled, Fox continued the rest of the short way without him.

Miyu slid the final device into its case and stored it inside the pod, turning to Fox as he neared with a toothy grin.

"Heya boss, just in time, I'm about finished and the things ready to go." Sighing, she stepped back and slammed the rear hatch closed. "Personally, I think is a pretty crappy idea you and Six got going here and its probably going to get him killed. But then again, I'm just the hired help." The feline chuckled boisterously; looking over the vulpine's shoulder, her strained grin nearly collapsing.

Fox smiled, choosing not to respond.

Instead he turned to leave, stopping besides Six and holding his paw out.

"Good luck."

In a motion that surprised Fox, the spartan extended his gauntlet past the vulpine's stretched paw and firmly clasped his forearm, just below the elbow. Startled, Fox hesitated to imitate Six's sudden show of comradery, his grip tightening on the soldier's thickly armored bracer.

"I will see you on the other side...Fox." The spartan replied with an unusual demonstration of warmth.

"Right...on the other side." He grinned up into the soldier's expressionless visor, no longer intimidated by the mirrored bulwark of imposing steel, knowing who it was that stood behind it.

Fox left the room with confidence, already conscious of the coming results of the spartan's mission.

*****

Six watched Fox leave, turning from the door to eye both females that had chosen to stay behind. Miyu stood off to the side of the pod, holding something in her paws. To him it looked like a weapon of sorts and he wondered what it was she was doing.

Krystal had not moved from where he had first spotted her, her paw still lingering on the drop pod's hull. Yet as her soft emerald eyes shifted towards him, he found his faculties for movement arrested, those piercing jade irises steadfastly locked onto his visor. Six could not help but feel that maddening upwelling of guilt that had been plaguing him for days, the events back on Corneria consuming his attentions since the moment of their inception. The spartan had thought it within his capabilities to be human, yet he could not even overcome the first obstacle to thrust itself onto his path. Admittedly this was one hell of an impediment.

There was much he was still left in the dark about, this uncharacteristic connection he felt with Krystal, and to a different extent, Miyu. These mysterious impulses that now haunted him and the imbalanced sentiments that confounded his senses. He no longer knew what to think of either women, or anyone in the team. As it stood Fox was the only constant. The vulpine was his commander...his...comrade. At least that's what he thought, or perhaps not. He didn't know anymore. It had been so long since he had someone to call friend that he did not know if this feeling he had was what that entailed.

What were any of them to him now? What was he to himself? Could he still be called a spartan? Or human for that matter? Or was he something hopelessly lost in-between? Forever torn, never belonging wholly to either one?

Or perhaps...he was just Noble Six, the excruciating culmination of a weary existence, just a man trying to find a place in a world not of his own?

There was one thing amongst all these did not to be fact, and it had taken him many days to discover this.

He felt alive, more so then he had been at any point in time during the war. Even surrounded by aliens and beleaguered by uncertainties as he was. Not since he had lost everything as a child had he felt this swell of incomprehensible emotions, though these did not carry the same sentiments behind them.

The knowledge that someone besides himself actually cared about his existence filled him with...was it warmth? He didn't know how to correctly describe the sensation. He likened it to a fire kindling in a hearth long abandoned. As he thought of Fox, Krystal, Miyu, and the others, he felt an upsurge of contentment. These were the ones that had shown him a life where he thought none had existed.

They all meant something to him in some way he could not rightly grasp.

While he mourned the loss of his spartan brethren, they were soldiers like him, uncompromising and resigned to their fates. The minute he had joined them he had already acknowledged the inevitable outcome. But Starfox was different. They were not like him or his fellows. They held onto hopes, dreams...aspirations, to be more than just mercenaries.

He had long ago tossed away any sense of worth to his own life, accepting what it was he had become, acquiescent in the awareness that he had no future beyond death on the battlefield. His only purpose was to martyr himself for mankind. Now, with no mankind to sacrifice himself for, this resolution no longer applied.

It was they who now gave him his worth, without them he had no reason to strive to live. This was not some hurried juvenile assumption. To Six it was purely pragmatic. Without Fox to follow and the team to protect, what other purpose did he serve here? Indeed he had not given thought to the possibility of functioning on his own. His life of service had made him entirely dependent on an existing chain of command with which to unquestioningly follow. He needed someone to lead him, to help him fulfill his purpose.

And for that reason he would rather die than fail any one of them.

Yet he had already failed her...

Krystal, he knew not what it was that she wanted with him. All he knew as that whatever it was meant a great deal to her. Six had previously vowed to protect her from all forms of harm, but he had not counted on him being the one to be the cause. This situation was beyond his current capability of understanding. But that did not matter to him, he did not need to understand. All he needed was to solve this issue.

He recalled his conversation with Miyu days prior, his....embrace, seemed to be what was required to solve that quandary. Perhaps a recurrence of that action for her would bear the same fruit?

Six would have liked to have more time to dwell on a possible solution to his current crisis, but he was swiftly running out of time. The mission was greenlit; he had to be in the pod before they dropped out of FTL. There was no more time to waste.

The spartan stepped forwards and approached the pod, Miyu meeting him halfway.

Six glanced down at the feline curiously, wondering why she had not left when Fox had. Closer to her he was able to identify the weapon she held in her paws, a handgun of sorts, but bigger than any of the ones he had seen before. What she was doing with a sidearm unholstered was beyond him.

"Hey Six, just wanted to see you off, and wish you luck." The feline smiled up at him nervously, fiddling with the gun in her arms. She seemed content with staring at him for a few moments before she jolted out of her reverie, a tinge of rosy flush darkening her muzzle as she held up the weapon for him. "Oh, I brought you this. I thought you might need it. I noticed that some of the other guns were too small. So I thought one of my personal ones might be better."

Six reached out and accepted the weapon, examining it in detail. It was surprisingly large, almost bigger than his magnum. He could clearly see that the cat had lavished her affections on the gun. It was in mint condition and showed no signs of wear and tear, as pristine as the day it had been created. Though he had so far refrained from using cornerian weapons, this one would be acceptable. It had come from one he trusted and would be an adequate replacement for his magnum. He found the gift exceptionally valued with its timing and viability. It would be a textbook support weapon for his sniper rifle and SMG.

The spartan gave it one last inspection before locking it to his thigh plate. "Thank you, Miyu." He ducked his helmet in a show of appreciation.

"No problem, just don't forget to return it." She replied, her smile becoming oddly stressed.

"Of course, I would not wish to steal from you." Why would she give it to him if she was worried he would not give it back? Cornerians were certainly strange.

Hearing his response, Miyu chuckled ruefully, shaking her muzzle. "Right...." She grunted, walking past him with a sigh, muttering under her breath as she left.

Why had she called him an idiot?

Confused, Six shifted his attention to Krystal, the vixen waiting besides the pod with one of those understanding smiles she always seemed to have ready for him. No matter what he did it seemed she had an infinite well of patience when dealing with him.

That gently curled muzzle infuriated as much as it made him want to grin himself. And he was not a man prone to smiling, with very few reasons to. Yet, for whatever the intention, she was apparently one of them.

Krystal was a strange creature to be sure. She could fabricate emotions in him that he had not thought himself having the capability to produce nor understand, not since before his conscription into the spartan program. What was she, to do this to him?

Yet the greater question remained.

What did he think she was to him?

As it stood currently, the vixen was someone he wished to protect. But that was to the extent of what he believed her importance to be. However, it seemed that he meant significantly more to her than she did to him.

Why she placed a person of his....character, on such a high standing baffled him. In no way that Six could tell had he given her reason to.

Then there was Peppy to consider.

The hare had handed him an ultimatum, concealed behind his apparently well-intentioned words.

He must decide what it was she meant to him.

But he simply did not know. She was an...anomaly, an inexplicable variance in his understanding of the world. He knew she was significant to him in some fashion. She was one the one person he had confided in, who shared an understanding of his inner thoughts and motivations. So in a sense, he supposed he did have some amount of care for her. She was...important, to him.

"Hello...Six." The vixen stared up to him with those disarmingly wide eyes.

The spartan had closed the distance to her and the pod, perhaps subconsciously, silently studying the one who affected him in such mysterious ways. Perhaps his eyes could tell him what his mind could not.

In appearance she looked just as the day he had first seen her, wearing that dark blue suit with black underlining. Though, her expression was not the same, holding far more compassion then previous. Just like the others she would forever have to shift her gaze up to speak with him, suffering from a smaller stature. Her tail would always be a source of interest for him, Six doubted the novelty of it or her alien features would ever truly fade, especially with that cerulean pigment to her fur.

With nails more commonly associated with claws and a muzzle full of incisors, alien was truly a correct nomination for her, perhaps even beast, if not for the fact they functioned much like human beings. The spartan found that her appearance and that of the others did not overtly bother him. He had seen far uglier species in the Covenant, Unggoy being the main specimens. In comparison they were rather tame and easily better to look at.

The spartan was instinctively drawn to violence, danger. They had not evolved to wield claws and fangs to better help them garden and chew their vegetables. No. Those were for only one purpose. Perhaps that was why she interested him, the oxymoronic dissimilarity between what she was capable of and what her nature led her to be fascinated him. There was a complexity to her that he had not expected on their first encounter more than a month ago.

It was her alien features and personality. He had never come across someone capable of such a depth of kindness and acceptance. Six would even wager that even if she knew everything about him she would still treat him as she did now.

The spartan found that he was starting to welcome that smile of hers, even anticipate it. Not only had he few reasons to smile, she had been the first to direct one at him.

His opinion on her smile was not the only thing to change. Six no longer viewed her in the same light. Her actions several days ago seemed to have awakened something inside him, something...primal. Things he had previously overlooked about her were at the forefront of his subconscious thought, her distinct aroma being one.

Six's augmentation allowed him to differentiate between the many aspects of her personal scent, the sweet fragrance of the cleaning products she used and the animalistic quality of her feminine musk that was not all that unpleasant, reminding him of his exploration of the forest around the team's villa, of a world untainted by the plasmatic lance of the Covenant.

Eyes sharper than an eagle's now noticed her female form that they had once disregarded. Though not as muscled as Miyu, Krystal was by no accounts frail. Even in her suit he could see the distinct curvature of her lithe build.

This brought back memories of the strange urges that he afflicted him so strongly on that day. He could recall the softness of her fur, the firmness of the flesh underneath as it yielded to his touch. There was something about her sinuous body submitting to his strength that...affected him.

Without thinking, Six raised his gauntlet, the one he had used before and studied it. He was curious to know why these feelings persisted and why she was the root of them. Turning his attention from his gloved hand, Six returned it to the vixen standing in front of him and the source of his musing.

She had patiently endured his silence, though her smile had faded, barely an uplift to the corners of her chops.

"Krystal..." He gave his severely delayed acknowledgement. Remembering what he had to do, the spartan shifted his helmet in curiosity. "Why are you here?"

At the sound of his deep voice her stance shifted and the vixen swept up her tail, running a paw through the plush fur of her extra appendage. "I wanted to see you off..." She muttered softly, though he could hear the beginnings of another response building. "And...I was hoping we could...talk."

The spartan nodded grimly. He had an inkling as to what she might wish to speak of, but now was not the time. The chronometer in his HUD told him that he had no time for it. Perhaps if he had not been absorbed in thought they could have spoken in detail. But that was a luxury currently unaffordable.

"No." He denied her bluntly. Yet as her expression wilted he continued speaking. "Not now, however...I too would like to speak with you. But we will have to wait until this operation's completion. Afterwards on my return I would like to meet with you...inside my quarters." Six hoped to get this issue with Krystal ironed out so that they might be back to....normal, as it were.

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth and filtered through his exterior comms system, her muzzle split into that infuriatingly welcomed smile, the tail in her paws twitching happily.

"Yes of course, I would love to!" She exclaimed in anticipation, a complete 180 from the last time they had spoken.

"Good..." He grunted. Now with that taken care of he could focus once more on the mission at hand. Seconds after he disregarded her and took a step towards the drop pod, he felt a force impact his breastplate, alarmed, Six glanced down, seeing the vixen clinging to his armor, claws scraping against the titanium alloy with a clatter as her grip tightened. Confused, bewildered, and baffled, the spartan hesitantly accepted her embrace, awkwardly patting her on the back.

While considering doing this for her, he had not factored in the calculations that she might jump the proverbial gun.

"Just come back in one piece, okay?"

His audio sensors picked up her whispered words and Six nodded, though she could not see it.

"I certainly intend to." He had no desire to die just yet. And he would not want to tarnish the spartan name by getting killed by such underserving foes such as these venomians.

She held him close and just before he pried her off his armor the vixen pulled away, sniffling softly to herself as he straightened out and coughed once to clear his throat.

Wasting no time, Six reached over her and opened the pod, his helmet shifting to face her as he readied to climb in. "Be careful out there and try not to get shot down." It would not do for her to die before they settled this issue.

The vixen nodded, giggling despite the gruffness of his words. She knew that deep down he was just worried about her.

"Try not to die yourself, Six." She retorted, turning to leave the room, her mood considerably heightened past what it had been for the past few days.

The spartan chuckled, shaking his head as he climbed inside the pod. Snapping his rifle onto the anchor next to the seat and briefly familiarizing himself with the controls.

'Strange....absolutely strange...'

He had spent the last day studying up on the pod, it was not all that different from the ones he was used to using, just a few switches out of place and the absence of the controls to deploy the chutes it did not use. As he buckled in, Six glanced down to his thigh and the weapon mag-locked to it.

He would have to thank Miyu properly next chance they met. He really did appreciate the weapon.

Closing the hatch, Six flicked a switch and the pod hooked up to the newly implemented drop rack, dragging the cylindrical hunk of steel over the tube that would soon send him crashing towards the surface, though much more tastefully then what he was used to.

As the spartan waited he recalled a saying he had heard once before.

War never changes.

Obviously whatever philosopher that coined the phrase had never met a spartan.

War would change, and he would be the catalyst.


	16. Catalyst

Chapter 15: Catalyst

Krystal shifted her flight stick; paws wrapped forcefully around the metal shaft as her Cloud Runner spiraled out of the way, evading the glowing red sphere of a smart bomb. The vixen pulled back, suddenly cutting of acceleration and undercutting the venomian fighter that had been doggedly in pursuit.

Once it flew into her sights she pressed the button under her thumb, gunning down the aggressor in a hail of blue light.

Even though the enemy fighter was enveloped in a ball of flames, it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

'He's gone... he's really gone.'

They had all watched on the bridge, in horror, as the drop pod fragmented mid-entry, the figure of Six spinning as he was consumed in the flames of Fortuna's orbit. He had seemed confident that the machine would have worked, but it didn't.

The vixen clutched the control rod in her paws in a white knuckled grip, grimacing as her teeth grinded together in anger, hot tears of denial running down her muzzle.

'Stupid! Fucking stupid!'

To add salt to their wounds, the venomian fleet had attacked not soon after, denying them even the opportunity to grieve, though it was still so hard to believe.

He had seemed unstoppable, Six. Nothing in this place was his equal. Strong, confident, and experienced, she had thought that he was invincible. Yet...to be brought down by something as trivial as a mechanical error...

It was too much for her to bear.

She had been so close! It seemed that the spirits were mocking her. They certainly seemed to enjoy her torment. It had bothered her for so long, what had happened between them in her sanctuary. She had only come to terms with it the day before, putting together why he might want to refuse her.

And, once she had thought all hope was lost to truly get to know him, he had been the one to offer to talk.

'Now... now I'll never know. He's gone, there's nothing left to say, no one to say it to.'

Krystal shook her muzzle, drizzling her cockpit with minute teardrops, lamenting on opportunities lost.

'I... I love you Six.'

How she wished she had told him before he left. Now there was no closure, no peace of mind. She had disliked him on first meeting, weary and mistrustful of the stranger in their midst. How she had been so wrong about him. Certainly he had been...abrasive at first, but in time she had learned much about him, his motivations, hopes, dreams. Underneath that callous and unsympathetic exterior was a man who didn't want to hurt anymore, a man just trying to find where he fit in a place he did not understand.

She had admired him so much, his endurance, his strength, and not just physical, but the willpower to adapt and overcome the hardships he routinely experienced, to accept her and the others, despite the well-deserved prejudices he held against other races. She admired his courage, his selflessness, willing to do whatever it took for the sake of others, though he did not openly broadcast it. And in this admiration, she had grown to love him, to love not what he was, but who he was. Despite his broken past, he had strived to overcome, to change. He had shown her a part of himself that he had not shown any other, the scared soul he kept so closely guarded.

One much like her own. She was scared, to lose her friends, the family she had been given after the one she had lost. Her greatest fear was that the same fate that befell her home would reoccur, that she would once again lose those she had held dear. Then Six had come, someone capable of keeping them all safe, of protecting them. And she was no longer so afraid.

Yet, she had learned that he too was afraid, and his soul had called out to her, wanting to be saved just as she wished to save her friends.

Just as he would protect their bodies, she wanted to protect his mind.

She had envisioned a future for him, where he could learn to live without war. And she would have helped him see that, wanted to be the reason he could. He had been a fascinating man, one she had hoped to learn about over the course of a lifetime. He was the only one she had ever felt this way about, Fox was a close friend, but with Six she had felt some deeper connection, something far more profound than mere attachment. She had not needed to see his face to fall in love with him, all she had needed was to be near him, drink up his complex personality. She had long ago shrugged off any fear of him, or his anger. His enormous strength was not something that had frightened her, rather it had brought comfort. Such would only ever be directed at those who wished harm upon her or the others.

He had been gentle, her thigh quivering at the barest recollection of his touch.

Krystal's ship suddenly shook violently, throwing her out of her sorrowful thoughts. She could not help but growl.

Would they not just let her mourn?

Lips pulled into a snarl, she flipped the Cloud Runner on its axis and locked onto a venomian destroyer, squeezing the trigger under the pommel of her joystick. The tip of her fighter glowed blue, charging the battery for the smart bomb. Vibrating in her paws, she pulled her furred finger off and watched as the torpedo leapt forwards, scything through space until it smashed into the destroyer. The wounded ship had no shields, the missile carving deep into its hull before detonating, blasting a massive crater in its side.

Not enough...

It was their fault he had been in that pod, their fault he died. If not for this damned war then he might have had the chance to be more...to be with her. She had worked so hard to show him there was another life to live. And now he would never get the chance.

Krystal racked lasers across the side of the listing destroyer, erasing any possibility that it might recover. A series of explosions beset the dying vessel, culminating in one final detonation that split it at the seams, flaring bits of hull blasted into space.

She downed several fighters as the destroyer shattered underneath her ship, intending to reap more in her growing fierce tally.

Before he had come, she had been content with the life she lived. Now she could not see one without Six's impressive presence. For the vixen the future looked bleak.

Releasing her tight grip on the Cloud Runner's controls, she fell back into her seat with a bleak moan, eyes shut and uncaring if a venomian fighter vaporized her. At least then she might be able to see him again. All she wanted was to curl up into a ball and wish the world away.

But she could not.

The Cloud Runner's comms system sparked into life, bringing a somewhat welcomed voice.

"Hey Krystal...you doing alright?" The familiar husky tone of Miyu inquired, the feline's interceptor hovering close by.

She, Krystal, and Falco had been tasked with protecting The Great Fox from venomian fighters while Fox and the others helped the CDF fleet. It had been apparent why the vulpine had put them on guard duty. He did not trust for their feelings to not cloud their focus so he had basically dumped them into the rearguard.

"No." The vixen denied in a choked growl, wishing that she was back on the dreadnought so she could just be alone.

"I...I know that things seem a little...tough, right now..." Miyu was not all that good on pep talks, especially since she herself was a pawsbreadth away from breaking. But she had to be strong, for the both of them as she always had been. The feline liked to believe she was the older sister in their relationship, looking out for Krystal, the vixen still innocent in many regards.

But this time was inordinately harder than any before. To say that she was hurt by Six's death was putting it..... lightly. It was just that she had to be the levelheaded one here, even though she did not want to be. As it was, Krystal was a liability to herself and the others, and Miyu wondered why Fox had let her come. Maybe it was for the best, they all deserved to get back at Venom.

"Tough?" Krystal hissed through clenched teeth. "It is a damn sight more than tough!" The vixen spat caustically, her tone acidic enough to melt the hull of a landmaster.

Miyu let her poisonous remark wash over her, ignoring Krystal's ire, knowing that she was just hurt. They all were. Six had been a part of their team, their family. Though having only been a part of Starfox for a month, he had left an unforgettable impact, namely on Krystal and herself. The feline's body tingled, remembering the time they had spent at the cliff's edge.

To her he had been more than family.

Miyu could only wonder what Fox was thinking, he having given the direct order responsible for the spartan's fate. No doubt he was internally beating himself up. She knew that Fox had thought of Six highly, seen how they had interacted. Both had shared an unusual brotherly bond, Six reciprocating it in his own peculiar way.

She could see Fox's arwing out there, at the epicenter of the conflict, dancing through the labyrinth of war and giving death to anyone unfortunate to get close. It was clear to see that he deserved his well-founded reputation as the best pilot in Lylat. She had never seen him come back from a mission with as much as a scratch on his ship. His only competition for the title was wolf, and no one had seen hide or hair of that lupine or his team since the end of the war. She wondered if he would be showing his muzzle anytime soon.

Even as she considered that, she felt a sharp stab of pain in her heart.

Six was gone. And Fox was taking his anger out on the only ones he could. There was nothing to be done now They could grieve properly once the battle was over. In all likelihood, Admiral Demarcus would have the fleet pull back again since their original plan failed. Without Six down there to take out the planetary defense grid, there was little they could do. Most of the fleet was in reserve protecting the transports that were to ferry down the reinforcements. The force of infantry and heavy armor would most likely not see use this day.

"Come on, Krys, we still have a job to do." She murmured softly, shifting her interceptor to double back towards The Great Fox. Despite their grief, they could not give in.

With a hoarse sigh, Krystal brushed a paw across her muzzle, drying her tears and following after her friend.

She would finish this fight.

For Six.

*****

Six regained consciousness sluggishly, clearing his thoughts with a few stern shakes of his head as he scanned his environment, trying to recall what had occurred shortly after he deployed. Upon realizing where he was, the spartan let slip a slight weary sigh.

'Well...the pod worked....sort of.'

Pieces of the once cylinder-shaped entry device lay scattered about the newly minted spartan shaped crater marring the surface of Fortuna. Dragging himself out of the hole, Six's memory slowly returned to him, resulting in another heavier sigh.

The drop pod had entered the atmosphere without any problems, in fact it had been the smoothest reentry he had the pleasure to experience... at least until the pod fell apart. Even with the addition of further armor layers. The machine had not been able to handle the stress of reentry and had veritably fallen apart at the seams. While durable, cornerian metals were not as strong as the titanium alloy the UNSC utilized. If they wished the pods to work, they would have to find a balance between protection and viability.

Six hoped the team had not panicked. In all likelihood they had seen the pod disintegrate mid-flight. True, that would have killed anyone else, but this was not his first time falling through the sky. Admittedly, his previous exploit had been aided by an M-spec Reentry Pack. Without it... well, it was needless to say the ride had been a bit... bumpy.

As he lifted himself to his knees, the spartan groaned, clutching his side. Sliding an arm over his bruised and battered body to the source of his pain, his gauntlet closed around a shard of metal jutting into his armor. With an annoyed grunt, he ripped the debris free in a fleeting spray of crimson and tossed it to the dirt, watching as the hunk of steel impaled the ground with the force of his throw.

Staggering to his feet, Six chuckled darkly at an irony only he could hope to understand. Of all the things he had encountered, it seemed that the true dangers were not that of the enemy, but of his own ill-fated luck.

Shrugging of his disorientation, the spartan performed a quick weapons check, giving himself and his surroundings a swift once over. Six dropped a gauntlet to his thigh, discovering that his M7S was nowhere to be found. Switching to his other thigh he was relieved to learn that the sidearm Miyu had given him was still locked firmly in position.

Down a weapon, he concentrated his efforts on finding it and the sniper rifle he had anchored inside the pod. Six took a few minutes to rummage through the wreckage, ignoring his injuries in a rush to find his gear.

Finally, after almost losing hope, the spartan spied a long greyish tube sticking out of the dirt, the barrel of his sniper rifle. Approaching the half submerged firearm, he grabbed the muzzle and yanked upwards.

Upon finding his weapon, Six frowned.

Only half of the SRS-99 hung in his grip. Everything from the trigger down did not exist, all but sheared away from the violence of his arrival. Growling, he tossed the now rendered useless gun to the ground.

The now frustrated spartan pitched pieces of the pod, scattering them around the area as he intensified his search for the SMG, hoping to scrounge some sort of suitable weapon. However, his efforts were futile. The M7S was nowhere to be found.

Six sighed, never having had the chance to use either weapon and weighed down by ammunition he could no longer use. The spartan unholstered the blaster Miyu had gifted to him and gave it another glance, concerned that it might be his only weapon.

Seeing no place to insert a magazine and with the knowledge that she had not given him any, he theorized that the blaster did not need reloads, perhaps using some sort of portable recharge system, technology that not even the Covenant had employed.

"At least ammo is not an issue." He muttered darkly.

He supposed now would be a good time as any to see how effective cornerian weapon tech was. Thankfully his hours of research had given him an innate understanding on how to operate their munitions. And while he had yet to test them on the range he was confident that he could perform at the very least satisfactorily.

As he moved to lock the weapon back to his armor, Six detected voices approaching from a distance, moments before his tracker lit up with the signatures of six contacts, resulting in a more prolonged sigh from the spartan as he reached for his shoulder sheath and extracted his kukri with a noiseless whisper, the curved blade shimmering in the subdued light of his jungle surroundings.

'Why did every planet in this system have a jungle?' Honestly, he was getting tired of it.

Six activated the armor mod he had installed pre-op and faded into thin air as the group of unknowns arrived.

The spartan watched as they trotted nosily into sight with the telltale jangle of armored plates and weapons dangling from harnesses. From their color scheme and species, he identified them as venomian soldiers. If not wanting to adhere to his preference for stealth, Six would have gladly exited his concealed position and eliminated them.

However, there was little guarantee that he could silence them swiftly enough that that could not broadcast a distress or warning signal. So for now, he would wait until an opportunity availed itself to him.

"Why did the commander send us out here again?" This question came from the only reptilian of the group, his nasally voice managing to irritate the hidden spartan.

"You're an idiot... you know that, Serval?" The ape in front declared in annoyance, shifting the drop pod's debris around with a boot. The other five dispersed and moved to scrounge through the wreckage. "Cannot you not see the reason...?" Reaching down, the simian picked up a chunk of steel and chucked it at the reptile, turning away as he fumbled to catch it. "Something fell out of the sky yesterday and I'd bet a month's salary this junk has something to do with that, maybe some trick from the CDF. Spread out and see what you can find!" He barked firmly, his soldiers moving to comply as they carefully sifted through the remains of the drop pod.

Six had heard enough. It seems that he had been unconscious for several hours. That put him behind schedule. He would have to pick up the pace to capture his lost momentum. Since he had little to fear from their weapons with his shields, Six debated on the need for stealth. At the very least he should strive to reach the venomian installation undetected. The spartan had no desire to have air units scrambled to take him down, as unstoppable as he was, there was little Six could do to take down a fighter without the proper tools.

For now, he would silence this patrol and keep moving.

Waiting until they spread out from each other, Six selected his first target.

The lizard had placed himself as the farthest from the others, trying to laze off near the edge of the little crater Six's pod had made, amusing himself by staring up into the sky. It was clear that he had little to no experience, not that it would matter in a few moments.

Activating the Covenant stealth field generator, Six silently circled around the edge, closing in on the unfortunate reptile. In a flash of movement, his gauntlet lunged out and wrapped around the lizard's throat.

He squeezed.

Without a noise, the spartan popped the vertebra in his spine, killing him instantly and dragging the corpse out of sight.

With the party now numbering five, Six ghosted to his next target.

In moments an ape vanished into the jungle, Six making short work of him as he had the reptilian.

By now the disappearances were no longer unnoticed.

"Serval, Arald, where the hell are you?" The ape leading their small squad called out the names of the missing, his men looking around nervously.

With no immediate answer forthcoming, yet with their numbers suitably diminished, Six no longer felt the need to constrain himself.

"Seriously, if you slackers are fucking off again I'l-"

Whatever he was going to say was suddenly cut off as a curved blade erupted through his esophagus, splitting his vocal cords and silencing him mid-speech with a heralding wave of ruby red gore spouting from his ruined throat.

The sight of their leader mysteriously and violently killed, the four venomians were frozen with indecisive terror. This would prove to be their undoing as the lifeless form of their superior collapsed to the dirt, eyes forever wide with shock, revealing a shimmering distortion of air that one would only see in a heat baked desert.

As the vaporous figure moved, they finally regained their senses and opened fire. But the bolts of energy only managed to singe the bark of a tree as their intended target was nowhere to be found. Still trying to grasp what was happening, one of them cried out in pain as a thick crimson shard of light materialized of the blue and burned a path through his chest, scorching its way past his flimsy armor.

Another of their number killed off by the unseen force, the last two tried to run, figuring that cowardice was preferable to death. Yet the path ahead was instantly blocked as a figure phased into sight, a hulking monstrosity of cerulean plate. Skidding to a halt, they never received the chance to turn. Stepping forwards, the armored being flashed into movement, an ape dropping to the ground, his neck twisted at an odd angle.

The remaining simian had little time to grasp what was happening before he felt a tremendous force impact his breastplate, crumpling his armor and shattering everything from his collarbone down to his ribs as he was tossed into the air, little more than a leaf in the breeze.

*****

Six glanced down from the scene of carnage to his bloodied fist, mildly amused. He had spent so long regulating his strength around the team that it was relieving to no longer have to hold himself back.

Lowering his blood stained gauntlet, Six turned his attention to the other, clutching Miyu's blaster. The weapon had a decent amount of force behind it, with a surprising kick he had not expected to find in an energy weapon. Yet, the results of its use were most satisfactory. He had yet to speak with Fox in regards to his payment, having given little though to it previously. But he was starting to think up uses for having currency of his own, there were things he wished to acquire.

Temporarily disregarding such thoughts, Six accessed his HUD, having managed to mark the location of the installation before his pod had failed. The nav arrow placed it ten or so kilometers to the southeast, it should take a few hours for him to reach it, enough time so that the patrol would not be missed.

The spartan followed the arrow on his HUD, wondering how the team was fairing. From an earlier conversation, he knew that Fox suspected the venomians might reengage in orbit upon the arrival of The Great Fox. The ship was well known to belong to the Starfox team and as such Venom might feel the need to preemptively act. If this was true, and he had been unconscious for a few hours, they might very well be fighting at that moment.

But he was not overtly concerned. They could all handle themselves, even Slippy. And with the dreadnought and CDF fleet to back them, there was not much to be worried about. From what he knew of naval engagements, which was a great deal given his record, there would be lulls in combat, both sides retreating to regroup. This should buy him the time he needed to knock out the planetary defense grid so they could send reinforcements.

The only thing that troubled him was the possibility that they thought he was dead. The pod had managed to breach the lower atmosphere before it malfunctioned. And since his bones were not crushed into powder, he must have pumped the hydrostatic gel layer to cushion his landing before he went unconscious. No normal person could survive a fall from such a height, though it had not been his first, the recollection bringing bitter memories forth. He would have contacted them to update Fox on his current situation, but there was no telling if their comms were compromised. For the moment he was operating on his own.

But isn't that what he always preferred?

To be a lone wolf...?

Six had always favored working on his own, had long ago learned that the only one he could rely on was himself. But now.... he was not so sure that still held true. So far Fox had been a reliable leader, he and the team had surpassed his admittedly low expectations. He might have even gone so far as to call them trustworthy. No longer was he so fond of solitude, they had changed him. And he was not all that sure it was for the better.

The spartan shook his head.

What he would give to have Jorge hear with him. The man had been a well of experience and familiarity. Being a Spartan-II he was more knowledgeable in many fields and Six could have admittedly used some of that at the moment. Peppy was a poor replacement, not at any fault of his. The hare was making an admirable effort to be helpful, and Six was aware of that.

He had also been fairly handy with his LMG.

Six's travel dropped him off on a small dirt road, with signs of recent use. It was also worth note that is nav beacon followed the same direction so it was safe to assume that this road connected with the venomian base. From the looks of it, the path was fairly recent in its construction, only rebuffing his assumption.

Stepping onto the muddy lane, the spartan meditatively thumbed the coarse grip of his blaster.

This was not the first time he had set out from an impact crater with nothing but a sidearm.

He could only hope that this time it would have a better ending. With that thought, he moved forwards, his heavy greave sinking into the thick muck.

'Perhaps... in some ways, war doesn't change.'

*****

"Dammit!"

With a loud clang, Fox smashed his fist into the side of his arwing, the reverberations of the blow traveling up his now throbbing paw, the vulpine growled, fists tightening with impotent anger.

"Of all the stupid ways to die.... dammit Six!" He muttered quietly, resting his sweaty brow against the cool metal of his ship, eyes closed.

He should never have cleared the pod so soon, regardless of what Six felt. Because of his hasty actions, a member of his team was dead. This hit Fox hard, his first time suffering a loss under his command.

Is this what Six deserved, to die over some world completely alien to him, having fought in a war that did not involve him for a species he held no allegiance to? Fox had heard the tale told to General Pepper, raised from childhood to fight a war that had taken everything from him, his family and his future, and just as he was starting to change, to be killed by a random twisty of ill-fated circumstance?

It seemed as if fate had made a mockery of Six.

Holding back his anger, Fox took a deep breath and stepped away from his arwing, turning to his team as they stepped down to the gantry.

He was not the only one so affected.

Falco leaned against his ship, taking a swig from a bottle of water, beak expressionless. On the outside he might have seemed uncaring of the spartan's fate. Yet he had not uttered a single sarcasm fueled retort since the battle started. And there has not been a single mission where Fox had not heard him make at least one bad pun or joke.

Peppy had yet to leave the bridge, overseeing the battle and coordinating with the admiral, using his years of experience to their advantage. The hare's only response had been a sad shake of his head, whatever he thought was closely guarded behind his wizened age.

Slippy tinkered away at his fighter, focusing on that rather than the cold hard truth. Fay sat beside him, the two friends working together. Fox was not sure if she was all that affected. Six had not spent that much time around her and when he had she had been distinctly uneasy.

Miyu had not left the cockpit of her interceptor, the feline sulking in her seat and staring off in the distance. She would probably sit in there until Admiral Demarcus called on them once more. Fox knew that she had considered herself close to Six, perhaps closer than he himself had been. So if she was that pained by it, Krystal was worse off.

The vixen sat on the cool grating of the gantry, leaning against the guard rails, knees pulled tight to her chest, muzzle propped on top of them. Her tail slumped lifelessly at her side. Krystal's natural vitality had been sapped, the female fox riveted in an unresponsive state.

Fox had not heard a single word from her since Six's fate, her responses consisting of dazed nods and grunts. He worried about her more than the others. He wouldn't know what to do if Fara was gone, didn't even want to think about it. It was his concern that in her current situation she would get herself killed. Distractions were the bane of pilots, and she had a very good reason to be. He had found it hard to focus on the fight at hand, plagued by doubt.

Had it been his leadership that killed Six in the end? Perhaps if he had made better decisions along the road the spartan would still be with them.

Spartan....

Fox jolted out of his melancholy.

An idea came to him, a silly, irrational, and foolish one but an idea nonetheless. Fox had seen the spartan's armor, the incredible capabilities it featured. Maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of a chance that he might still be alive. Until he saw Six's body with his own eyes he would not give his death any credence, he could not afford to.

Stepping off the pier connected to his arwing, the vulpine crossed over to the Slippy's.

"Oh hey Fox." The toad greeted weakly, barely suffering a glance in his direction.

"Hey Slip, can you help me out with something for a second?" He looked down to his friend who was webbed hands deep in the inner workings of his ship's engine.

"Uh...what do you need?" There was a slight change in his tone's pitch, Slippy curious of what Fox wanted and anything that might distract him.

"Would you be able to rig an encryption on a comms high-band?" Fox asked hopefully.

"Encryption..." The toad muttered quizzically, scratching the top of his head with a wrench. "I'm not all that good with computer stuff, you're better of asking Fay." He turned to the canine next to him that had been watching their discussion. "What about it? Can you?"

She frowned, setting down the toolbox. "Maybe...it would take some time and I would have to tap into The Great Fox's comms relay with ROB's help, and that would probably only last a few minutes before Venom managed to break the encryption." She tilted her muzzle curiously. "Why? What do you need one for?"

"Just an idea, can you get started on that and let me know when you're done." He didn't want to say anything in case it didn't work. No reason to get everyone's hopes up just yet.

She nodded in confusion and sat up. "Sure...I'll get started right now."

"Thanks Fay." He grinned softly, saying his goodbyes as he made his way down the gantry to where Krystal brooded. He was not relishing this next conversation but he could not just leaver her there. Sher was like a sister to him, and he could not stand to see her like that. He hated to admit it, but Miyu was made of tougher stuff so he did not have to worry about her all that much.

The vulpine stopped just in front of her, crouching down beside the vixen and resting a comforting paw on her shoulder.

"Hey Krystal, you...alright?" He asked, hesitant of the answer he knew was coming.

The vixen was slow to respond to his presence, tilting her muzzle up to him with bloodshot eyes. It became obvious to him that she had been crying silently for some time.

"Why does everyone ask that?" She whispered hoarsely, muzzle twisted into a ferocious grimace.

Fox winced. "It's because we're all worried about you. I know that you are hurt, we are. Six was our friend too."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

"Friend?!" The vixen snarled derogatorily. "He wasn't just my friend, he was more than that!" She spat heatedly, lips pulled up to reveal her glistening white fangs, tail bristling at her side.

Fox watched in alarm as her claws unsheathed, digging into the fur on her shins, hard enough to nearly draw blood. "Krys!" He reached down and pulled her paws away from her legs, worried that she would hurt herself.

And he was subsequently cut by surprise when she pulled him into a fierce hug, burying her muzzle into his arm, which soon became damp with her tears. The vixen whispered something to him a few moments after, almost too quiet for Fox to hear.

"I never told him Fox...I never told him." She repeated between sniffles, the vulpine cringing as he felt her claws tug at his clothes.

Not knowing what else to do he rubbed her back soothingly, waiting for her sobbing to subside. "It'll be alright Krys, You'll see. I don't know how, but just you wait." At that point he was just trying to say anything to help her.

Eventually, after a few minutes her breathing settled and the vixen fell into a light and troubled sleep. Sighing sadly to himself, Fox pulled away, taking his jacket off and scrunching it up into a makeshift pillow, which he placed under her head as he gently set her down. He wished he could have moved her but at the moment it was better this way.

Fox stood up and groaned, pinching the bridge of his snout and leaning against Krystal's Cloud Runner. None of this would have happened if he had just told Six to wait till they finished testing the pod. Of course his first mistake as a leader had to be a catastrophic one.

Six better be alive.

His arm suddenly buzzing, the vulpine pulled his paw away from his muzzle and glanced down, seeing that the call was from fay. He pressed the green answer prompt.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, I set up that encrypted band like you wanted and patched it into your comms device. I still don't know why you wanted me to do it but whatever it is you have planned make it quick. I'd say you only have about ten minutes before I have to shut it down."

"Thanks Fay." That was some good news at least.

"Just hurry it up Fox, alright?"

"I will." He ended the connection, focusing his attention on his silver band wrapped around his forearm with profound dread. With this he would truly find out whether Six was gone or not. Fox's paws trembled as he reached down and slowly keyed in the spartan's comm signal.

Once his furred digit hit the last number, Fox dragged his arm up to his muzzle, lips straining to form the words that would make or break this.

"S-Six, t-this is Fox c-come in." Dead static answered him, the white noise damning in its scratchy insensible tone.

By this time he had grabbed the attention of the others, reacting to the spartan's name. Even Krystal had awoken, staring up at Fox in perplexed confusion.

"Six this is Fox. If you can hear me please respond, that's an order." He pressed more firmly, somehow believing that his demand would bring the dead back to life.

Once again there was no response, just that damnable white noise.

"Six respond....please." He pleaded, tone an octave away from cracking.

Dead silence.

Then...

"You better have a damn good reason for breaking radio silence, Fox." A gruff emotionless voice muttered irritably, only one person in the universe capable of using it.

"S-S-Six....is that really you?" Fox stuttered with wide eyes, truly surprised to hear a response. Despite his hope, he had not thought the spartan would answer.

"Last time I checked." The voice grunted.

"You...you're alive!" Fox shouted with a relived chuckle, lips pulled back into gleaming grin.

"Evidently so..." The spartan deadpanned.

"B-B-But we thought you were dead."

"I believe I told Miyu this already, but spartans never die, Fox."

One moment he was talking to Six, the next his muzzle was firmly plastered against the gantry's grating.

"SIX! You're alive!" Krystal yipped, commandeering Fox's arm to yell into his bracer. The vixen had almost dislocated his shoulder, holding it up to her muzzle with teary eyes.

"Ouch."

*****

"Why is this such an alarming development?" He inquired, wishing his helmet had noise dampeners not only for outside sources but interior ones as well. Thankfully he had his exterior transceiver shut of when Fox had called, otherwise the vulpine would have alerted the thirty or so odd venomian soldiers spread out through the complex's headquarters.

It had been hard enough infiltrating the compound without a nineteen something female fox screaming in his ears.

Six silently withdrew from the large room and shadowed through a corridor, an unfortunate venomian soldier along the way suffering from an acute displacement of his spine, Six propping the corpse in a storage room along the way.

Yet at the same time he was... glad, to hear her voice.

The spartan came across another target, scything his gauntlet into the soldier's side with enough force to rupture the entirety of his internal organs and pulverize his armor. Acting quickly, he clamped his gauntlet on the simians muzzle to snuff his imminent cries of pain and prevent him from spewing blood onto the pristine flooring.

Six grunted in irritation, backtracking to stuff the corpse with the other one, wiping his blood stained gauntlet on their uniforms.

Damn, he was starting to go soft.

"B-But we saw the pod fall apart." The vixen whined softly into his ear as Six crossed into another room in his search for the complex's reactors.

He had... questioned, a venomian soldier he discovered patrolling the outskirts of the base, learning that the reactors were indeed a real thing and located in the compound inside an underground bunker which's entry hatch should be around the place he was searching.

He had also learned that the venomians had destroyed the firebase nearby, though they had taken prisoners, all of them female. The spartan was not so ignorant as to not know what they had planned for the women. It was a common occurrence played by the insurrection, despite their broadcasted desires for civil liberties; they were not above pillaging and raping their way through the colonies.

Hypocritical bastards.

Six had extracted the information of their location from his reluctant contact before aggressively terminating him, appointing their rescue as a vital secondary objective even as he broke the reptilian's spine.

Once the explosives were set on the reactors he would double back and release them. If there was one thing besides battle that could set his heart alight with the fires of retribution, it was when the strong abused the weak. He had seen enough of that between the Insurrection and the Covenant alike. While the aliens had no desire to violate humanity, they had little issue slaughtering women and children.

The Covenant did not take prisoners or hold hostages.

"The matters regarding my death are greatly exaggerated." The spartan had all most forgotten the feminine voice knocking around in his helmet, wondering how anyone could stand such a thing for any breadth of time, chiefly a spartan.

At least once the bombs were planted he no longer had to worry about stealth. There were plenty of opportunities so far for him to grab a venomian weapon, but he had refrained. He could always just commander one when he needed it.

"I... I am so h-happy that you're alive." Krystal whispered quietly, the vixen's tone giving him temporary pause, the spartan halting at the hatch. "When I saw the pod fall apart... I... I."

The spartan's grimace shifted into a frown, it seemed once more he had unwittingly been the benefactor of her distress.

He sighed, dropping his helmet in defeat.

Was nothing ever easy?

"I am... sorry, to have worried you." Six muttered awkwardly as he twisted an iron wheel to pry open the hatch and step inside.

"Don't worry. It's fine... now that you're okay." He did not have to see her face to hear the happiness in her tone and he was not sure what to make of it.

But at least that was sorted out.

As he traveled down the concrete steps towards the reactor room, he heard a scuffle on the line shortly before Fox's voice returned, though the vulpine was groaning as if he just been attacked.

"Hey Six, glad to hear you're alright. Where are you?"

The spartan shook his head in disbelieving wonder. Did they not know what military communications were for? This was not the time for idle chitchat, he was in the midst of an operation and they interrupted it to speak with him? What was the meaning of this insanity?

Despite being disgruntled, Six decided to at least update Fox on his current situation. "I am inside the reactor complex, readying to set the charges." He replied moodily, ducking under a cross beam and arriving at the bottom floor to the sight of several large machines rumbling as they filled the chamber with soft green light. They were undoubtedly what he was looking for.

"Really?' The vulpine gasped in surprise as Six began the process of laying charges on the machines.

"No. I decided that the middle of an operation was the perfect time to fuck around." He replied dryly, keying in another explosive with a fifteen minute timer and eyeing his motion tracker. So far things were running smoothly.

Fox chuckled. "You know Six, you're starting to sound a lot like Falco."

"I'd rather die." The spartan retorted, utterly serious.

Another chuckle from the vulpine as he made his way back up the staircase, as he neared the door several blips flashed on his tracker, probably a security team on patrol, of the same kind he had been avoiding since he arrived.

An idea came to him, one that made Six frown.

"Fox...is this channel encrypted?"

"Of course it is, why?" came his confused response.

"No reason." Six muttered, unholstering his sidearm as he raised his grieve, the contacts stopping just outside the door.

Growling, Six smashed his armored boot into the thickly fortified door, blasting it off its hinges as he leapt forwards. Mid-jump, he snatched the unhinged door by the handlebar, turning it into a crude shield/battering ram and catching the small party of venomians by surprise.

Swinging the massive slab of pure iron to his left, Six annihilated the poor ape that had been standing there, throwing the broken corpse down the hallway in a pile of powdered bone. As they tried to piece together what had transpired in the last few seconds, he lowered the barrel of his handgun to the closest enemy and pulled the trigger. The crimson bolt plowed through the venomian, all but ignoring his armor.

Six pulled the iron door close to him, letting it absorb the flurry of laser blots sent hurtling his way in stuttering retaliation. With another roar he charged forwards, battering the venomian's to the side and crushing them in the process, the door-turned-shield bludgeoning them into oblivion.

The spartan chuckled as he took in the death around him, glancing at his impromptu armor.

'So, this is what being a hunter feels like. I think I'll keep this for now.'

Stepping over the corpses, Six jogged down the corridor, racing towards his next objective. He had not forgotten about them.

This was only the beginning.

*****

She had lost all sense of hope.

Sasha glanced up from her seat on the barren cot towards the six other women jammed into the same cell as her. They were far from the giggling group of friends they had been weeks ago. The arrival of the venomian army had changed that. Those monsters had destroyed their base, murdering all of their male comrades and enslaving them. For that's what they were, slaves. They were definitely not being treated like prisoners of war.

The female husky was just glad that the enemy soldiers had not taken advantage of them yet, but judging from the lustful glances the guards kept giving them, that was not going to last much longer.

She shuddered.

Is this how her life was to end? Raped and murdered by the hands of a bunch of monsters? She wasn't even nineteen! When she had signed up this was not how she saw it ending. She hadn't thought it would end at all. She had joined at the tail end of the war, banking on the assumption that she would never get to see combat, while still getting the benefits of service. And that plan had worked up until now.

The venomian assault had taken them completely by surprise. What was worse, all her friends had been killed, at least all the men. Yet, she could not help but feel bitter jealousy. At least they were not going to be turned into sex slaves, a fate she considered to be far worse than death.

As she pondered on the darkness in her future, she heard a commotion outside their cell. The guards that had been lounging around the break table were now hastily reaching for their weapons, a warning klaxon resounding in the air as red strobe lights flashed.

The faint ember of hope she had once thought lost was instantly reignited.

Was the CDF attacking? Where they about to be rescued? The other women looked up from their depressed stupor, the chance for freedom kindling their hearts with newfound optimism, their menagerie of tails flicking with anticipation.

Just outside, a thunderous noise shook the room, the sounds of weapons fire erupting just beyond the closed door. It sounded as if something had impacted the building with enormous force. The three guards exchanged worried glanced and shouldered their arms, cautiously eyeing the now foreboding doorway. Eventually the firefight outside petered out to a sudden halt, leaving them all in an ominous silence.

As the seconds dragged on, the guards argued briefly amongst themselves before the unlucky candidate was selected to go forwards. Just as his scaled hand touched the handle the door exploded open, throwing the venomian to the ground. Two red shards of light flew in from the open door and cut down a guard, the ape dropping to the ground clutching his scorched throat.

The gecko that had been thrown to the ground tried to climb back to his feet. Once he had managed to get on his knees, a figure strode in from the doorway, lodging what looked like a sword into his chest.

Sasha was not sure what to make of this person. They did not look like any CDF soldier she had ever seen. They were practically a giant, covered in some strange hulking blue armor splattered with reddish gore.

Whoever they were, they pulled the now crimson stained blade from the dying reptile and turned to the last guard, who had by this time managed to aim his weapon. The trio of lasers the ape released flattened against a shimmering barrier of golden light that seemingly sprung into existence around the warrior, protecting him from harm.

As the venomian watched on in horror, the armored giant strolled towards him and decked the ape across the jaw with enough power to rip it away from his skull. The presently jawless simian smashed into the wall and flopped to the ground, dead.

Silence loomed.

Sasha and the other women eyed the stranger cautiously, uncertain if they had just been rescued or just merely exchanging captors.

The blue giant scanned the room before his mirrored visor settled on their cell, as he approached; they could hear his boots impacting the concrete with echoing thuds. Without a sound, the stranger stopped in front of the iron bars.

"Big Dog, clearance code 580-2950." The masculine voiced figure stated mechanically.

Puzzled, it took a few moments for Sasha and the others to recognize the code. When they did, elation filled their chests. They had been taught that watchword during their training days!

"You're with the CDF?" The husky asked joyful.

"Affirmative." He nodded.

Sasha collapsed onto the cot with a heavy sigh, no words able to express how glad she was to hear that. The other women whispered happily amongst themselves. It seemed as if lady fate herself had intervened.

However, there were still a few problems left.

"How are you going to get us out of here? The guards were the only ones who knew the code for the door." She gestured to the corpses and the keypad next to their cell.

"That will not be a problem, please step back."

Confused, they complied and moved to the back of the cell, watching in mute astonishment as the soldier grabbed the iron bars and pulled, ripping the entire wall out and tossing it away with the same mentality one did with trash, the thick metal dropping to the ground with a resounding clang.

"Come we must keep moving." The cerulean giant turned and bent down, retrieving the three venomian blasters from his unlucky victims and walking back over to them. "Who here is the best with a weapon?"

"I'm a pretty decent shot." Sasha confessed. She and a couple others had been marines. "Lily and Morgana too." 

He nodded holding a blaster out to her. The husky grabbed it, welcoming the feeling of a weapon in her paw once more. Now she was the only one responsible for her fate. A calico cat and skunk stepped up to grab the other two weapons.

Once their little troop was somewhat outfitted, the soldier gestured for them to follow in silent command, leading them out of the cell.

Stepping outside, they were awed to see at least a dozen venomian soldiers sprawled across the ground in varying states of death, most looking to have been cut down by the man's unusual sword or crushed to death by some immense force. It was a grisly sight, but the knowledge that these had been their captors made it much easier to accept, bringing them some small measure of satisfaction.

"Where are the others?" The skunk, Morgana, inquired as she looked around.

Sasha noticed this as well.

Maybe they were securing the area?

The man shook his head negatively as he walked over a partially dismembered corpse dismissively. "It's just me."

"Just...you." Lily mumbled in wonder, the sight before them taking a whole new context.

"You did all of this...by yourself?" Sasha reiterated in incredulity. There had to be at least fifteen venomian soldiers here, and he was saying he went through all of them.

"Now is not the time, we must keep moving." He replied commandingly as he hoisted a slab of iron into his free arm as easily as one did their baggage, it looking suspiciously like a bunker door.

What was he intending to do with that?

"We must keep moving, more will be coming soon." The armored man urged them to move with a beaconing flick of his visored helmet.

"How exactly do you plan on getting out of here?" Sasha sure hoped he had come here with a strategy; otherwise this would be a very short rescue.

In response, he simply held up his blaster.

"Oh..." She muttered with a deflated sigh.

*****

Six was not sure what to make of his newly rescued cohorts. He was not as uncomfortable around them as he might have been a short while ago, mostly due to their military nature. While still aliens, he could still respect that much about them. And it made it easier to ignore the fact that they were all females.

They were different from civilian women; those were much harder to deal with.

It helped that they all were decent shots.

The spartan hunkered down behind his improvised shield, letting it soak up the efforts of his venomian adversaries while providing cover for the ones under his protection. With their aid they managed to fight their way out of the main building and into the field outside, blazing through seemingly endless waves of soldiers. Without his help they would not have made it past the bars of their cell, as attested by the terribly disproportioned body count. If this kept up he might set a new record for most kills in a single mission.

"Sasha, reach for my bandolier." By this time he had learned all seven of their names, Sasha, their instinctively elected leader, Lilly and Morgana, the two to first get weapons, and then the last four, Henriette, Sue, Kendra, and Mona.

Making their way through the compound, he had managed to get a good opinion on their capabilities. Sasha, Lilly, and Morgana were the best of the seven, judging from their tattered uniforms they had been CDF marines. The others were preforming admirably but had obviously not been assigned to combat postings.

Six was not sure why he was giving so much thought to them. Perhaps because it had been so long since he fought beside others? Whatever it was, he was undeniably curious.

In response to his order, the female husky reached for his breastplate, knowing what it was he wanted, and grabbed one of the two grenades attached.

With a wordless nod of appreciation, he took it from her and pulled the pin, tossing the frag over his shield and into the nest of venomians hiding behind a fuel tank.

He did not tag his adversaries as very bright.

In a flash of searing light and heat, the volume of enemy fire lessened considerably, enough to allow the seven individuals hiding behind him to seek cover of their own and freeing the spartan up to move.

In the instant they were gone, Six bolted forwards, boots cracking the concrete underneath him. He was now unrestricted to his previous defensive stance.

With the supportive fire of his allies, Six smashed his way through the defenses the venomians had erected in front of the main building, bulldozering through cement blocks and defenders with equal ease. His spur-of-the-moment shield providing him the means to enact his offensive assault.

Those too close were squashed by the immense slab of iron and any too far from his grasp were put down by precise lances of crimson energy disgorging from the blaster in his free hand. The body count continued to rise as he swept a destructive swath across the open field.

While aware that he was acting recklessly, there was not much time for anything else. His communication with Fox was only temporary before they had to close the line, but the vulpine had given him an express set of orders before that time.

This place was to be the beachhead for the reclamation of Fortuna. While he cleared it off hostiles, Fox and the others were going out to confront Oikonny, Venom's dictator that he had all but forgotten. Apparently the ape was trying to flee down to the planet, his orbital forces all but destroyed.

But Krystal wasn't accompanying them, the vixen was piloting the shuttle that would come to retrieve him ahead of the main units. She had been explicitly adamant about that from what Fox told him. Her concern was... appreciated, though he was not looking forward to the coming conversation. He may have adjusted to this life somewhat, but he was ill prepared to be scolded by a female.

Despite his foreboding, Six was not about to slow down. The timetables would not allow it.

With a frown, he slammed the now battered and crumbling shield into a pair of venomians that had traveled to close, leaving nothing but a red smear on the concrete.

The spartan examined his protection, knowing that it would not last much longer. While durable, to be used as a giant club had not been its originally intended purpose. A few more uses is all he would probably get out of it, then it would be back to relying on his actual barrier tech.

The ground vibrated under his feet and a familiar sound pierced the air, that same hybrid clamor he had heard back at the base on Corneria. Turning his head, Six was treated to his first look at venomian armor.

It held no resemblance to the main cornerian battle tank, the landmaster; rather it was almost twice the size with duel barrels and heavier armor. Instead of treaded tracks, the machine hovered a few feet of the ground, seeming to employ the same technology he had seen in civilian use. Perhaps this meant that venomian tech was somewhat ahead of their cornerian cousins as the spartan could not see a reason why they would not utilize it if they could. In ally likelihood they had not managed to find a balance for the weight. Not that it was his concern. No. His concern lay in the question of how he was supposed to take that thing out.

His current arsenal was woefully insufficient.

Debating with himself, Six watched as the machine drifted to a stop several meters from him, a low rumble signifying the rotation of its main weapon.

Thankfully it was turning to aim at the women scattered about the broken cover strewn landscape.

Unfortunately, there could be only one other target.

Six braced himself, firmly digging his armored greaves into the concrete, reading his shield and squaring his shoulders as the cannons glowed with accumulative energy.

Hopefully it would hold.

In a dazzling flash of green energy that appeared to draw the very light and sound from the sky, Six felt something colossal smash into him with the force of a runaway warthog, blasting him backwards and tearing his shield from his grip. The spartan's energy barrier evaporated instantly, the howling whine of an empty gauge screaming in his ears as he was tossed backwards to crash into the remains of the fuel tank that had erupted not so long ago.

Radiation warnings flickered frenetically across his static tainted HUD, his shields failing to recharge. His arms were on fire, his nerves calling out to him in blistering agony as his systems warned him of a myriad of armor failures.

Pulling past the pain he pulled himself back to his feet, ignoring the burning sensation in his arms.

His gauntlets were scorched black up to his elbows, the cerulean paint that had once coated them completely stripped away by the intense heat. No doubt his skin had suffered some damage, the only thing preventing him from losing his arms being the hydrostatic gel, it combating the remarkably high temperatures.

Six grinned savagely through bloodied teeth, a sight that would have stricken mortal terror into the hearts of the tank crew if they had been able to see it, which would have only worsened had they seen his eyes.

Finally, something that could at last challenge him.

The spartan unsheathed his kukri and dashed forwards just as the enemy armor made to fire again, moving too fast for them to hit. As he neared the machine, a flurry of panicked bolts shot from its anti-infantry defenses, the clumsy aim of the gunner only managing to land a couple of inconsequential hits, barely enough to register on his HUD despite the lack of shielding.

The tank fired at the ground in front of it, taking the risk of damaging itself in order to try and kill him before it was too late. Six tensed his lower body and vaulted over the explosion, soaring a full ten feet over the detonation to land on its hull, his weight enough to cause the entire machine to sharply dip downwards.

Raising his kukri, Six buried it to the hilt in the tank's armor, intending to pry it open like a tin can. In result, the venomian vehicle careened drunkenly, trying desperately to throw off the seemingly insane attacker.

The spartan dug his free hand into the hull, clamping down with enough force to dig his fingers into the hardened steel, steadying himself and determined to finish what he started. With mechanical precision he carved a shallow divot into its side and primed one of two of the plasma grenades he brought with him, stuffing the flaming cobalt sphere inside and jumping off.

As if realizing its fate, the tank ground to a halt, moments before its left side was torn apart in a violently blue explosion, driving the hovering machine into the ground to furrow a crater in the concrete. Muffled screams could faintly be heard as the molten plasma cooked the unfortunate souls inside.

Six staggered to his feet, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It was good to be back in action. He had spent too long without release, gladdened to know his skills had yet to fade.

He held onto his smile even as his legs have out from underneath him, the spartan collapsing to his knees with a hiss of pain. Confused, Six glanced down, a trail of blood seeping from a gash in the side of his armor. Upon hesitantly probing the injury with a blackened finger, he snarled and curled his fists.

It seemed the wound he had contracted during his crash landing had been exasperated by his efforts.

"Sir, are you alright!" A panicked female voice cried out, Six uncomprehendingly thinking it was Krystal. Even his immense tolerance for pain was almost at its limit, rendering him faintly delirious.

She would be furious at him for getting himself hurt.

But it was not her, that female husky running to his side.

Huh... he hadn't even given her his name.

Not feeling the need to respond, Six chose the much more appealing option, staggering to the nearest wall and clumsily falling against it. He would not lie down; he was far too prideful for that. Only in death would he allow himself to lie down on a battlefield.

He ignored the growing protests of her and the other women. There were no more enemies, nothing else to worry about for the moment. Six spent his time trying to quell the rising delirium and once more gain complete control over his faculties.

It was hard to do with his charred hands and that gaping hole in his armor.

Those would be a pain to repair.

He sat there for what seemed like an eternity, everything else fading into the background. The spartan was grudging to admit, but this was the worst he had been hit in a long time. He would have to make it a point in the future to avoid getting shot by a tank. He doubted he would survive a repeat performance. If not for that slab of iron he would be finding out just what awaited him in the afterlife. Such would have been problematic considering he was far from done with this life.

Even he knew when to admit defeat. This little conflict was going to put him out of action for a bit. It would be some time before he recovered and returned to full strength. If what his HUD was telling him was true, he would be out of it for a while.

Six smirked.

And he never thought he would see the inside of The Great Fox's Infirmary. It just went to show that he was not without his hubris. Even in this world there were dangers for him. There was a lesson to be learned here.

Sometimes it was not best to work alone, or at least in that event, bring a bigger gun.Charging enemy armor with nothing but a knife was definetly not one of his best ideas.

"SIX!" A female voice shrieked, the owner rapidly closing in with the slapping of sandaled paws.

At least this time he was certain he knew who it was.

The spartan groaned, the back of his helmet cracking against the concrete wall.

"Here comes the lecture."


	17. Catalyst, Part 2

Chapter 16: Catalyst, Part 2

Fox meditatively gazed out the bridge's viewport, contemplating the unlikely series of events that had come to pass.

Things had not gone to plan, (something he was starting to get used to). With Six in intensive care onboard The Great Fox and an attack by a mysterious creature, Fox was beginning to wonder what else could go wrong. Apparently, the spartan had thought it a good idea to engage in hand-to-hand combat with a venomian behemoth heavy tank. It was not enough that he had made everyone think he was dead once, now he seemed to be doing his best to make it a reality.

The vulpine vowed to soon speak with the spartan on his reckless self-endangerment once he had recovered.

At least it appeared his armor saved him from the worst of it, though from MAD's diagnosis it was a miracle the human was still breathing at all. Six had made it back onto the ship before he lost consciousness and Fox could only imagine how high his tolerance for pain was. His armor had still been blistering hot when they found him, somehow seeming to have absorbed most of what should have been a lethal attack from the tank's dual energy cannons. Fox was awed that his armor could survive and displace the immense energy from a direct hit by a double barreled heavy laser cannon. The materials that must have been used in its forging were definitely lightyears beyond lylatian military engineering.

Once recovered and with his assistance, they were able to get him out of his armor, moments before he collapsed. With Falco's help he was able to get the human warrior on a cot. Even unarmored the spartan was still remarkably heavy. From that point it was up to Mad to oversee his health, the medical droid doing all it could to keep his vitals stabilized. Since then a full twenty-four hours had passed with no change in his condition.

However this was not the only problem they faced. They had encountered a strange giant bug-like creature in the skies above Fortuna in their pursuit of Oikonny. Fox had first thought it was another one of Andross' bioweapons utilized by his nephew, but it did not look like anything that ape had created before and it had no problem attacking the pretentious simian without any prompt.

The thing had been tougher then it looked, proving ominously difficult to take down. He, Falco, and Slippy had barely been able to defeat it, using their combined efforts to blast the creature's wings off and send it crashing to the ground.

The strangest thing of it all had been Peppy's reaction to its appearance. The hare had ordered them to head back to the ship immediately, which was odd in itself since he had never pulled them from a mission before. And that only boded ill as the moment they all returned; Peppy had initiated the warp drive and set course back for Corneria. And he had done all of this without explaining his reasons behind his actions, promising Fox that he would do so later.

It was quite obvious that Peppy's irrationality was connected to the strange oversized insect they had battled.

'And this little thing has something to do with all of it.' Fox held up the small cube shaped device Peppy had asked him to retrieve from the fallen creature. Another clue that the wizened old hare knew more to what was going on than Fox did. Despite its appearance, it had been more machine then bug, a revolting combination of cybernetics and chitin that only further sought to intensify his curiosity on what exactly was happening and his concern for what this all entailed.

Fox's muzzle curled into a frown as the vulpine determinedly rose up from his chair. Right now he would get his answers from Peppy. He wouldn't wait around anymore. The answers were not going to seek him out on their own. He needed to know what was going on, why the hare had reacted the way he did. And the only way to figure out the reason behind it was to speak with Peppy.

Leaving the bridge, Fox traveled through the ship, down towards the hare's room. Once he arrived, he gathered his resolve and firmly knocked on the door.

*****

Krystal was not sure what emotion she was supposed to be feeling as she gazed down at Six, misery or relief? The spartan was lying unconscious in a hospital bed stricken with severe injuries. When she had found him he she had thought he was dead upon first glance, blood leaking from a hole in his armor and his arms blackened by fire as he slouched against a concrete barrier. Admittedly, she had gone a little ballistic at the sight of him, with good reason. And she had only calmed down once he started speaking.

With her help and that of the women he had saved from the venomians, they had been able to get him into the shuttle, a task that was difficult even with his support. He had not been lying about his weight, all their combined efforts had barely been sufficient enough to get him inside. Since CDF forces would take some time to get to the field and secure it, she had decided to take the other women to the ship with her. Even worried and preoccupied as she was, she could not think to leave them alone after what they had been through. As if Venom was not despicable enough, after she had heard their stories her detestation of them had been only inflamed.

Back on the ship, the spartan traded paws, Falco and Fox taking Six to the infirmary while she and Miyu saw to the lodging of the returned POWs. The Great Fox had plenty of room to house them until their situation could be figured out and they could be transferred to a CDF cruiser.

Once they were done, the two had rushed to the infirmary where Slippy and Fay had been in the process of helping him remove his armor, which could only mean he was really hurt. The spartan would have never accepted their assistance unless he had no choice otherwise. And the fact he could not take his suit off unaided meant it was indeed serious.

The task had been gruesome, and by the end both Slippy and Fay had been covered in Six's blood, the spartan bleeding profusely from the ragged hole in his side. As much as the girls had wanted to stay by his side and help, Fox ordered them to leave so they could take off his suit and get him into a medical gown. Both had not been allowed back in until he was transferred to a cot and by then he had fallen unconscious. From the moment he stepped onto the ship to the moment he went comatose he had not spoken a word, something that had worried her tremendously.

With the robot taking over his care, Slippy moved Six's armor down to engineering with the intent to wash the blood away. Fox left for the bridge to check the ship's course and Falco went with him. Fay had stayed long enough to see that he was fine before heading off to help Slippy, leaving Krystal and Miyu to watch over him.

Krystal had asked MAD, the ship's Medical Assistance Droid, to list off the injuries he suffered and it was difficult for her not to lose hope as she listened to the grim prognosis. Radiation burns branded across his torso and arms. Torn muscles, a cracked rib, punctured kidney, substantial blood loss, heavy internal bleeding, all with countless bruises and minor lacerations wracking his body.

Any normal doctor would have prescribed an ugly diagnosis, yet it seemed that the spartan was tenaciously clinging to life and on the mend, slowly. MAD had suggested a blood transfusion to help speed things along, but since there was no telling if their blood types were compatible or what risk it might be for him considering their difference in species. It was better that he heal on his own. MAD had already dosed him with a healthy amount of antibiotics and painkillers, prearranged a treatment for his burns, ensured his rib would heal properly, and removed shrapnel from the entry wound in his side before sealing it up. Of all the wounds, the radiation burns had been the easiest to fix.

With MAD's instructions, Krystal had slathered a medicinal cream on his arms and torso, a process that was not without a few blushes and awkward feelings. She would only ever admit to herself that she might have taken longer than necessary to apply the ointment. The vixen had been transfixed by his rock-hard muscles and masculine contours. He was as male as a man could hope to be and she was curious. Krystal had never touched a male in that way before, and she found it was not at all unpleasant. In fact she had rather liked the feeling of his bare skin on her pads and could only imagine his response if he had awoken to find her rubbing her paws all over his chest.

With the cream applied, his burns would fade away within the week as if they had never existed. In her innocent exploration, she had discovered similar burns on his back that looked to be relatively recent, and thought to apply the cream there was well, hoping it would help.

Finished, she had wrapped him in gauze and helped position him as comfortably on the bed as she could with Miyu's assistance. The feline had been silent since she saw him. Six had approached the feline in a haggard limp and handed a blaster to her before Fox and Falco carted him away. Since that moment she had yet to say a word, doing everything in silence. Krystal knew not the significance of his action but recognized that it had been important to her.

Since his wounds had been tended, Krystal and Miyu had drawn chairs up to the side of his bed and sat in wait for the moment he awakened, the feline absorbed with the blaster in her paws.

They knew not how long it would be before he did awake, but they prayed it was soon.

*****

"So that's what we're dealing with these... aparoids."

Fox had spent the last hour interrogating Peppy to learn what exactly that creature was and why it held such significance. And from what the hare was telling him, this situation was far direr than he had previously led himself to believe.

"Yes, aparoids," Peppy nodded grimly, his muzzle devoid of its usual good humor. "I have long hoped they would never reappear, but it would seem my hopes have been for naught."

"And you're saying that a single one of these... things destroyed an entire CNDF Task Group?" Fox could hardly believe the story. Yes, it had been difficult taking down the one he and the others fought, but they had prevailed, in arwings no less. So how could a fleet not do the same?

Hearing Fox's skepticism, Peppy was quick to offer a rejoinder that brought the vulpine little satisfaction. "The creature you encountered over Fortuna was not the same as the one the fleet encountered all those years ago. It was much... smaller."

Fox felt the blood drain from his muzzle.

Smaller? That thing had been massive! It had easily dwarfed their Arwings, a full quarter the mass of The Great Fox.

To think that it was of a lesser size... 

"How do you know all of this?" Fox asked his mentor, disbelief evident in his astonished tone.

"I know this because I was there when we initiated first contact.... as was your father." Peppy dropped another mindboggling bombshell on the young vulpine.

"Dad?" Fox reeled his muzzle back in shock. It seemed as if all the secrets Peppy carried were coming out all at once.

"Indeed, James was there as well as I." The hare's gaze softened as he recalled the events of the past. "It was one of the first missions we went on together. And we were the only ones to make it out alive from that massacre. There was no reasoning with it, no empathy within that soulless creature, nothing but a mindless machine with a single purpose and a message it delivered just before it attacked and decimated the fleet. We are legion... we are coming." The hare paused, running a paw across his wizened muzzle, his expression draped in a haggardness Fox had never seen on him before and the vulpine's blood chilled at the portentous simplicity of those words.

"These monsters... these aparoids, they are the biggest threat to face the Lylat System. They make the Andross conflict and Oikonny's rebellion, appear juvenile in comparison. If they are truly coming, and this signifies the advent of a war. I fear it may be one we are not properly equipped to fight... or win." 

Fox could not decide which was worse, the despair in Peppy's voice, or the possibility he was right, that there might be no victory against the aparoids. It was a lot of information to have to digest. At that moment, the vulpine desperately wished that Six was conscious so he might have been able to speak with the spartan. He could have used some of the veteran warrior's advice about now. If anything it might have brought him some measure of comfort.

"So... what do we do?"

"I'm afraid there is nothing else to do but wait. There is no means of finding out if this was just another random attack or the dawn of something far more serious. Once we return to Corneria I have to speak with General Pepper and determine what exactly it is we can do to prepare, however little it might be. The only saving grace is the presumable death of Andrew Oikonny. We can most likely expect a full withdrawal of his forces and it may just be the time to settle with a truce. If the aparoids do come, Venom will hardly be the main issue we must face."

Peppy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Once we return, I think it might be best to send the team on leave for a while. Give them time to resolve any personnel matters they might have. If the aparoids attack, I imagine there would be little time for that and they may never get the chance."

"Will it be that bad?" The young vulpine asked quietly. The picture Peppy was painting for him was unquestionably grim. He made it sound like it was the going to be the end of everything and Fox could feel the ever-present weight on his shoulders increase by several magnitudes, almost enough to crush him.

"It just might be, Fox... it just might be." The hare's tone was unmistakably somber.

"What do I tell them?" He asked, looking up to the one that had been his father figure for most of his life, needing his guidance now more than ever.

"Nothing... tell them nothing. As it stands now that thing was one of Andross' old bioweapons. That will be the story for the news and what you'll say if they ask. The only one that can know is Six. I imagine there will be a great demand for his services in the coming months." Peppy felt pity for the spartan. The quiet life that could have been his was once more rendered unattainable by fate. He just might be the only person in the system to give them an edge over the aparoids.

As such his life has just grown that more hazardous.

The spartan was in for a rude awakening.

*****

Six did not dream, not very often anyways. Nor would he go so far as to call them dreams, more like memories, recollections of old battles fought, of times in his career where he thought he had finally reached his end. These memories did not come to him often, perhaps once in a blue moon. Recently however, his slumber has been plagued with these remembrances, but not the ones of old.

These memories were recent, events of his life from the past few months. And they were not necessarily of or about himself, but of the people he had come to know through circumstances mired in skepticism and disbelief. He found himself reliving the moment he joined Starfox, all the unusual experiences and the many odd conversations with its members he had endured since. And of these fresh recollections, most were centered on one figure, a person he come to hold in some level of unexplainable esteem.

Krystal

That cerulean vixen was the single most incomprehensible conundrum he had ever come to face in the entirety of a life ravaged by war. This inconceivable attachment he felt for her, something no one being had ever been able to produce in him before. He did not understand these feelings that had developed inside him, why he had grown this uncharacteristic fondness for her. Of all the members of the team, her presence is the one he preferred most and she somehow managed to easily twist his previously conceived loyalties. If it came down to a decision he did not know who it would be he vowed his allegiance, her or Fox. The one who legitimately held command over him or the woman that seemingly managed to have usurped that power.

What once brought him comfort and reprieve from the grueling, virtually hopeless austerity of his existence -maintaining and loading firearms, maintenance on his MJOLNIR, devising battle strategies- no longer brought that sense of ease. Now his solace derived itself exclusively from his memories of her, the melodious harmony of the vixen's laugh, the youthful purity in her bright emerald eyes... the way she smiled at him, accepting of who and all that he was. Just the thought of her calmed the innumerable inner demons that had haunted him all his life.

He could still feel the enthralling suppleness of her fur, so unlike the rigidity of the world he knew to exist. Six had not thought anything in existence could be so soft.

The spartan had never come into contact with someone like her. She was unique to this land and its ideals, innocent and kind. Completely different from the hardened men and women he dealt with in his own time and place. That vixen was the one and only person that made him think there was a faint possibility that something was out there for him. That he did not need to surrender to his grim lot in life. She gave him the strength to consider it a possibility that fate could be bested. That he could overcome his inabilities and societal incapacities.

Krystal made him believe.

The vixen gave him hope where he once had none.

These abnormal thoughts mystified Six to no end and the spartan knew then that he had changed from the bitter cynic he used to be, whether that was for the better remained uncertain. This place... these aliens... they had altered his perceptions, his very way of thought. These changes in philosophies would have never come to pass if he had not come here. Granted he would in all probability be dead if he hadn't.

He wasn't sure what to make of anything anymore. A once simple, command driven existence had been mired by these puzzling sentiments, the spartan more conflicted then he had ever been before. No mission, not even Reach, had affected him in a comparable way. Never before had he encountered a situation that would force him to weigh what it was that mattered most to him... duty or desire.

And he could not even understand what it was he desired. All he could discern was that it involved Krystal in some way. She had undisputedly become a person of pronounced importance to him. It was almost laughable in a way. He had once held zero reservations at ending her life if necessary. Now he knew he would never be able to pull the trigger, rather he would place the gun to his own head first.

Six had never put any real value into his life other than as something he would inevitably sacrifice for humanity when the right moment came, just as his fellow spartans had done before him. Now, it was something he would freely yield if it ensured she would remain alive. The vixen's continued survival was imperative to him, and he would do all in his power to protect her.

And this confounded him beyond all belief and reason, that he would place her welfare on the same standing as that of the entirety of the human race, such was her worth to him. If asked, he doubted he would be able to put these feelings into words. They more closely coinciding with instinct, an inexplicable impulse to ensure her protection and wellbeing that far surpassed any martial command or authoritative directive.

He could not even explain what it exactly was he saw in her that earned such devotion. She was neither his superior nor a valued personage of rank or command. The vixen was not a leader of men like Fox. She was just a mercenary, her only distinguishing aspect being her otherworldly telepathic talent.

Perhaps this is what it felt like to have affection, for a person to have worth to you and you alone even if you cannot see the reason why. Six found that he... liked her. It was something about Krystal's enduring positive view on life, her unshakable faith and devotion to the team, which earned her a degree of respect, and perhaps even admiration. She was in many aspects, better than him.

Six may be one of the best soldiers to have ever been created, but he lacked a significant element that all true soldiers possessed.

Conviction, the total and complete belief in the cause they fight for. Six's devotion was entirely manufactured by the UNSC, his loyalty heavily conditioned into him since childhood. He had no real allegiance to humanity or the military for which he had been trained to thoughtlessly obey. What had they done for him besides steal his childhood and turn him into a machine of war? They denied him even the most basic of human rights, the freedom to make one's own choices.

Those who had deserved his genuine fidelity had all died back on Reach. That was at least, until he met Fox.

Like Carter, Fox had won his complete confidence through mutual respect and appreciation. The vulpine was a trustworthy captain and one he would have no qualms in laying down his life for. The spartan no longer fought on the behest of a nation, but an individual. He fought because he had sworn himself into Fox's service. So until such a time came as the vulpine released him from his oath, or he met his end in battle, Six would follow him. Fox had earned that much.

The spartan supposed that in such a regard, he really was a mercenary now.

Six knew not what the future held for him, only that that it lay with Krystal and the Starfox team. The time had finally come that he fully commit to his decision, to cut ties with the UNSC forever.

He only hoped his future would be brighter than his past.

*****

Krystal was daydreaming, she could tell that much. Her abilities allowed her to acquire a firm grasp between reality and fantasy, even while she slept. And what she was visualizing at that moment was without a doubt far in the realm of fantasy.

Sauria, the world that had been the beginning of her adventures, the place where she met Fox and joined his team. She was there in her mind, as was Six. There was no war, no Starfox, not even her friends. Just her, Six, and a little wooden house by a lake. The spartan has shed his armor, exchanging the bulky reinforced plates for a collared shirt and a pair of tacky cargo shorts, his weapons tossed out to be replaced by books and a fishing rod.

When the sun set they would sit at a campfire along the lakeside and spend their night nestled together watching the stars, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company... and maybe exploring some other pleasures underneath the gentle starlight.

Six was the only male she ever wanted to give herself to, in both body and soul. And it was her greatest hope that he felt the same way. Though if he did there was little chance she would ever know. The spartan was an individual who did not often if ever leave his shell, she having only seen it in a few exceptionally rare instances.

Krystal realized this and had to satisfy herself with her dreams, the vixen's thoughts dwelling on what his hands might feel like as they ran down her body, his fingers threading through the cream colored fur on her chest. His lips roughly pressed against her in a passionate kiss as his large hands caressed her with a gentleness that belied the enormous strength that lay secreted inside them. She would drape her paws over his shoulders, kneading his powerful muscles in her padded grip as she finally discovered the herculean body she had craved to explore for so long.

Her nose picked up the heady masculine scent clinging to him that all but screamed alpha male. The vixen wanted him to claim her as his, to know she belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. 

So lost she was in her heated fantasy, she barely noticed as something latched onto her arm and gently shook the vixen out of her lust driven reverie.

Suddenly shocked out of her lurid reflections, the vixen bolted up right in the chair she had been dozing in and wobbled her muzzle in a confusion of muddled thoughts, a deep blush flushed across her cheeks as she realized what she had been envisioning in her daydream.

Rubbing her bleary eyes, she slowly remembered where she was. Krystal immediately tore her gaze over to the bed Six slept in and grew increasingly concerned upon noticing that the spartan was not there. But her worries were laid to rest after a brief examination of the infirmary. The vixen was once more caught by surprise, finding the spartan standing to her left. His hospital gown had been discarded and left on the cot, the human once more dressed back into his close-fitting ebony undersuit, the sight momentarily reminding her of her embarrassing thoughts and brought a more profound redness to her muzzle.

"Six?" She mumbled softly, her voice flecked with the remains of exhaustion as she gazed up into his crimson irises, the spartan looking down at her in silence. Despite his legendary resilience, she could easily see the haggardness in his expression, the slightly sunken bags under his dark red eyes as he stooped over her. "You shouldn't be out of bed yet, you need your rest."

He gave no verbal acknowledgment to her suggestion, merely nodding mutely and motioning for her to get up with a tilt of his head.

The spartan was acting even more strangely then he usually did, but the confused vixen did as he wordlessly commanded, craning out of the chair to stand at his side.

This seemed to satisfy him as Six nodded once more and turned to leave, his stride hardly affected by the grievous wounds that still aggrieved him, manifesting in a slight almost unnoticeable limp. Once more awed by his impressive resilience, Krystal followed after him, only sparing a quick glance back to Miyu, the feline still slumbering in her chair besides the now empty bed. She wanted to wake the cat up but judging by the spartan's current mysteriousness, she assumed he wanted whatever was coming next to be between the two of them.

Feeling a slight sense of unease, the vixen left the infirmary and tramped after Six as he marched through the halls of the ship. While he led her to wherever it was he was taking her, Krystal tried to speculate what this was about. She still thought he should be back in the bed to recover from his injuries. He had been so close to death that she barely dreaded to think on it. How was it that he was up and walking after only twenty-four hours? With the amount and type of wounds he had received, she expected him to be bedridden for at least a week if not longer. Those just weren't the kind of hurts one simply shrugged off. Or maybe they were for the kind of guy Six was.

Despite herself, Krystal could not shake off the ridiculous notion that she was in trouble. She felt just the same sense of foreboding that had consumed her countless times when her father had taken her down the palace's halls back to their room to scold the young vixen in private. And she hoped this would not end the same way.

She wracked her brain, trying to recall any moment that she might have upset him. By rights, she should be the one who was angry. She did not approve of this recklessness he flaunted about in his views of the worth of his own life. Did he not see how much he meant to her? His rashness would one day get him killed as it almost had on Fortuna. And if he did die, she didn't know what she would do with herself.

Krystal looked up to the spartan's back, watching him as they stopped at the lift, shortly stepping inside. Such close proximity in an enclosed place made her a little uncomfortable, the vixen once more bringing to mind the desirous thoughts that had run rampant through her not so long ago. She could not help but wonder once more if he felt anything like that towards her, the vixen desperately hoping he did.

The lift slowed to a stop and the silent human walked out, she once more ambling behind him as he led the way down a familiar corridor.

Why had he taken them to the crew quarters?

Her question was answered moments later when he stopped outside a door, the vixen recognizing it as his own. The sight of it instantly reminded her on what they had talked about moments before he departed on his mission and she felt her gut plummet in anxiety fueled trepidation. She was afraid of what might be said once they crossed into his domain. Krystal didn't know why he had wanted to speak with her in private, only that it connected to his actions back on Corneria after she had shown him her private sanctuary.

The spartan ran a hand over the scanner and the door cycled open with a near silent whisper of displaced air. Not looking back, he entered his room and the vixen, with no other choice, walked in after him.

*****

Darkness filled her vision for only a few seconds before the lights in the ceiling flickered on, the spartan having activated them. He stood in the center of his room and as his eyes once more found hers, he gestured for the vixen to sit on his bed.

Nodding uncertainly, she moved past him and carefully set herself down on the tightly folded sheets, crossing her slender legs and resting her tail in her lap, stroking the bushy appendage soothingly as her vision returned to the human.

Six sat at his desk and laced his fingers together, using them to hold his chin up as he stared back at her mutely, his crimson eyes giving nothing away. He remained motionless, his eyes being the only part of him that moved as they roamed up and down her body. Though unnerving, she was not opposed to his wandering eyes, only that they were devoid of emotion. It was obvious to her that he was deep in contemplation. And that he must indeed be serious about whatever this was to not have spoken a word yet.

Deciding to wait for him to speak, she contented herself with giving him a soft welcoming smile, hoping to show the damaged warrior that she was fine with him no matter his quirks.

After a short silence, he at last spoke.

"You wished to talk with me?" He inquired, the roughness to his voice more prominent than normal, either due to his recent wounds or lack of speech.

Tentative of what direction this might take, she simply nodded in reply.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Realizing this was her chance to tell him what she had previously worried she might never get to, Krystal wanted to explain herself. But the vixen found her lips could not form what her mind wished to express. And she struggled to try and put her feelings into words, unsure of how to make him understand what it was she felt towards him.

She cherished his company, that sense of safety and security it gave her. He was the only one who could ever comprehend the pain of losing a family and the very world you had once called home. The spartan understood her loss and it had been his advice above any others that helped her cope. His uncompromising and unshakable soul had become her rock in the rapids of a volatile existence. No matter what it might be they faced, he would always remain the stable and unyielding man she had known him to be since the moment she laid eyes on him.

Krystal regarded him as her protector, a ferocious guardian clad in cerulean plates, like the ancient Cerinian knights of old. With him she felt as if nothing in the universe could harm her. He gave her the confidence she had once thought to be lost many years ago. And for all of these wonderful reasons, she adored him.

That was what she wanted to tell him. But the vixen couldn't find the resolve from within herself to open her heart so completely. In the end, Krystal decided to use the fewest most powerful words someone could ever use to express her point. What would be in the end, the best way to deliver all of these heartfelt thoughts.

"I... I love you Six."

She declared in a quiet choked whisper, the words barely audible in the deathly silence of the room as they clung to her abruptly arid throat. The vixen turned her muzzle away from his gaze and placed hers firmly on the floor, unable to meet his bright crimson eyes for fear of what she might see in them. Her heart fluttered wildly in her breast as it beat a staccato rhythm of anxiety and apprehension as she brooded on what his response might be.

Six stared at the vixen, his body as still as stone as he contemplated her earnestly pronounced words, unable to understand what she meant.

Love: An intense feeing of deep affection.

He knew the plain and disassociated dictionary connotation of the word, but not of its real life significance. What did she mean by it? That she loved him. No one in his memory had ever told him this and he did not know what the proper response or procedure was. He knew she held some regard for him, but he had not expected it to be this profound. Honestly the spartan was not sure what he had been trying to accomplish with this dialogue, only that he wanted to ease whatever infractions against her he may have caused. 

He was at a complete loss as to what to say. He had spent the entire trip up to his room making preparation for this conversation only to his best laid plans tossed out by a handful of words. He was surprised to feel his heart thumping in his chest, his breathing having hiked up a nearly undetectable notch. The spartan's hands trembled slightly and his closely guarded emotions were plagued with doubt. He had never been equipped to handle a situation like this. He had no contingence on which to fall back or rely upon. Love was something he had never thought would be applied to him.

His thoughts traveled back to that moment in Fox's room where he had contemplated the possibility of living a normal life. If she did love him did that mean she wanted to share those things with him? If so, he didn't think he would be able to give that to her. He could never be that kind of man. Not even as changed as he was. Yet to tell her that would result in a scenario several magnitudes worse than the one that had started all of this. And he could never hurt her like that again. However, at the same time he could not deny the miniscule fragment of him that wanted to try to be what she desired. If there was anyone in this place he would ever consider making an effort to change for, it was her. And perhaps that was love, or at least his version of it. He doubted their feelings on the matter were the same, but they were similar enough to where it had a slim chance to succeed.

Six studied Krystal as she glared at the floor intently. The vixen's shoulders shaking as she tightly clutched her tail in paws that trembled as uncertainly as his hands. He found some small amount of comfort in the knowledge that she was just as apprehensive as he was. The sight of her was what helped him come to a decision he could have never made alone.

"Krystal..." He growled softly, the vixen hesitantly meeting his ruby red irises with her own emerald gaze. He could not help but temporarily lose himself in their viridescent reflection. Those were the eyes that saw in him something no one had ever seen before. They belonged to a woman that had looked past all his flaws to see the damaged man inside, and rather than turn away, she had instead embraced his imperfections. She was the one that had caused this metamorphose in him.

"You are not alone." While cryptic, it was the closest he could come to admitting his feelings.

The vixen's expression froze in confusion, she not understanding what he had said. But slowly she was able to decipher their intent. Instantly, the subdued glint in her viridian eye exploded into life and her black lips wearily pulled into a subdued smile that threatened to heat the room with its unfiltered warmth.

Krystal jumped from his bed and tackled him head on as he stood up, the spartan easily absorbing the inertia of her leap as he felt her arms wrap tightly around him. The vixen burrowed her muzzle underneath his chin and nuzzled his throat, her soft purr the only sound in his quarters other then the quiet swishing of her fluffy tail. He could feel her dark blue hair as it tickled his neck, the vibrations of her mellow crooning echoing in his chest. Six lowered his head, resting his chin in a field of cobalt and inhaling the female fox's pleasant scent, a distinct combination of vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. 

It took all of Six's effort to accept her embrace as he allowed himself to place his arms around her shoulders, pulling Krystal tighter to him. Running his hands over her clothes, he could feel the satiny fur underneath. It was a feeling he never wanted to forget. As he stood there with the vixen in his arms, any reservations about his decision were swept away by the sense of peace and warmth holding her gave him. Just having Krystal in his arms was enough to crack a small smile across his worn visage. A true grin he had not used in many, many years as he immersed himself in contentment he had never know before this day.

And at that moment, he knew he had made the right choice.


	18. Cataclysm

Chapter 17: Cataclysm

Fox walked out of the infirmary with a puzzled frown. He had gone down check on Six's condition and found that the spartan had already up and meandered off. The only one that had been in there was Miyu, the feline dozing in a chair that had been pulled up to the bed. He had woken her up in hopes of learning where Six went but she had been just as stumped as he was.

MAD, the sickbay's hovering med droid, had been the one to tell him what he needed to know. Apparently, several hours ago, the spartan left with Krystal in tow, the pair heading down the hall towards the main lift. This led Fox to assume that he had gone back to his room, but for what reason?

With this new information he quickly traced the suspected path Six and Krystal had used until he came to the elevator. A short ride later and he found himself on the upper crew deck and made his way down the hall. Stopping at the spartan's door, he gingerly knocked.

*****

Six's sharp hearing prematurely stirred him from his slumber as he detected the muted thumping of footsteps approaching his room, years of living on war-torn battlefields having conditioned him to react to the slightest unfamiliar noise or movement. As he listened, the footfalls stilled just outside his door, only to be replaced moments later by the faint rattle of someone knocking against the steel.

The spartan had moved to answer the summons when he finally detected the dainty, fuzzy weight resting across his chest. Glancing down, he noted Krystal closely huddled up against him. The vixen's lips were curled into a pleased smile as she snored softly, the gentle sound echoing quietly in the stillness of the bedroom. Her soft, steady exhaling triggered an itch on the exposed skin of his neck, one that he tried his best to ignore.

The sight of the sleeping fox sparked his temporarily clouded thoughts, bringing back to mind the happenings of hours prior.

He remembered that she had insisted he get some more sleep, and the exhausted spartan had decided to grudgingly follow her advice. It was difficult for him to admit to himself, but his wounds were still a source of irritation. He could move... and fight if need be, but he was not so foolish as to think he was at full functionality. Every pained breath and sharp pang in his chest was a glaring reminder that he had been close to death not so long ago. Thankfully he had always been a fast healer, and the medical technology of his allies was quite a distance ahead of the UNSC's. He did not expect for it to be long before he made a full recovery. And if not, he would not let it hinder his obligations.

Knowing this, and him, Krystal had insisted that she stay to ensure that he actually get the rest he needed. Otherwise he would have in all probabilities tried to shrug the nearly fatal wounds off. And so he had found himself resting in a crowded bed, the cot while having been made for two, had not been meant to support a man of his stature and another occupant.

It had been an extremely uncomfortable and awkward situation for him, at least at first. But after a time and some quick acclimatizing, it had become manageable. In actuality it was pleasant in an unexpected way, being the fastest he had fallen asleep in a long time, his slumber sped along by the sound of the vixen's gentle breathing and the sincere beating of her heart against his chest.

Six carefully extracted himself from the vixen and her affectionate paws with a degree of indiscernible reluctance, watching as the female fox grasped at the spot he had been occupying moments ago with a quiet whimper.

The spartan clutched the hem of the bed's blanket and draped it over her body, smiling down at her fondly and chuckling quietly to himself.

He didn't know what it was the future held in store for either of them, but he had made his decision and he would do his damndest to see that she was cared for. Six never defaulted on his choices and would fully commit himself now; to whatever it is this was between him and her. If anything it mattered not what he wanted, only what she desired. She loved him, oddly enough, and he wanted what was best for her. And if she believed it involved him, then despite his reservations, it was his duty to make her happy. At least in this way he would be more attentive to her wants and needs.

The only question of his that remained was why she felt this way about him. He wasn't exactly the most romantically minded individual. He had absolutely zero experience in these matters or any that could closely resemble them. He wasn't even sure what this inclined, or how it changed the dynamics of their previously established relationship. But as long as she was content he knew he was preforming his job adequately.

A firmer knock on his door reminded the spartan he had business to attend to.

Turning his back on the napping vixen he crossed over to the door and keyed it open with a wave of his hand. The steel portal pulled to the side to reveal Fox standing in the doorway, someone he had not been expecting. Six scanned his superior officer's expression and noticed he appeared to be troubled by something.

"Hello, Fox."

"Six... I'm surprised to see you up and about already. From what MAD told me you should still be resting." The vulpine curiously looked up to the spartan's neutral expression.

"I never stay in a hospital longer then I need to."

Fox smirked at that. "Right... we can talk about the proper lengths of recovery time later. Now however, there's something important I want to discuss. Care to let me in?" He motioned towards the interior of the spartan's room.

Six glanced over his shoulder to the slumbering vixen snuggly wrapped up in his bed. "Perhaps we should conduct this somewhere else."

"What, why? What's going in there?" Fox inquired, peering through the gap between Six's arm and his chest. As his eyes sifted through the darkness the vulpine's muzzle split into an infuriatingly smug grin. "Oh.... I see. Looks like I missed out on something pretty big."

"I would prefer you do not delve into my personal matters, Fox." The spartan suggested with a curt edge to his voice. What he decided to do with his time outside of combat was none of Fox's business.

The tod's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected animosity and he regarded the spartan oddly, taking an involuntary step back at the aggressive words.

Upon Realizing the tone of voice he used against his commander, Six was momentarily shocked by his actions. "That would be appreciated." He added, hoping to lessen the bite of his previous demand. Six did not know why he felt such hostility to what was a harmless remark, but he could not shake the feeling. He had never shown such a level of disrespect to a superior before and it had caught him completely unawares.

"Uh... yeah dude of course. I understand completely." Fox nodded easily, in all appearances seeming to have shrugged of the human soldier's unexplained anger. "Well then, why don't we head down to my quarters instead?"

"That would be the best decision." Six nodded and stepped out of his room, eager to agree to his commander's suggestion after his insubordinate outburst. Closing the door behind him with one last backwards glance to his unexpected guest, he followed Fox, striding down the hall till they arrived at the door to Fox's room, entering it a few moments later.

The inside was not all that different than the one he kept back at the villa, the only variance being the different pictures on the desk, all of the vulpine and what looked like his parents and that same long eared vixen Six had seen in the photos back on Corneria. His room was somewhat larger than Six's, the desk being a full double the size of the one he had. The spartan extrapolated that this must be because of his status as captain, it certainly made sense to him that the vulpine's quarters would reflect his status.

"Take a seat." Fox gestured to the chair placed on the opposite end and the spartan swiftly complied, sitting in silence as the vulpine assumed his place behind the desk.

"What's the situation?" Six asked. Having been unconscious for more than a day, he hoped to catch up on the events he had missed out on due to his involuntary incapacitation. Were they still over Fortuna? Or had the battle ended?

"Well... it's not a great one." Fox mumbled a sigh and leaned back in his seat to rap his claws on the steel bureau, the sharp black nails clacking against the polished metal.

"Bad?" Six offered.

"That's one way of putting it." The male fox chuckled and gave a grim nod.

"Really bad?" The spartan prompted again. His captain was visibly agitated and it was clear that whatever he was referring to was directly responsible. After the battle he had expected for his commander to feel elation, not despair. Something had indeed transpired in his absence.

"That sounds a little more accurate." Fox concluded, ceasing the movement of his furred digits and pulling himself forwards.

"Here's how it plays...."

*****

"That's about all I know about what's going on. Peppy, myself, and now you are the only ones who have the full truth about the existence of these aparoids. And I would like to keep it that way for as long as I can. You can't tell anyone, not even Krystal. I... hope you understand." Fox finished his long winded monologue, eyeing the spartan intently.

Six did not wait long before nodding steadfastly. "I understand."

And he truly did. The human soldier knew the value of keeping secrets. This was something the populace did not need to know. In fact the war with the Covenant had been kept secret for as long as the UNSC could hold the civilians in the dark. His only disagreement with this policy was in keeping the rest of the team out of the loop. He thought they deserved to know what might be happening and did not approve of keeping secrets from fellow squadmates. But if this was the vulpine's wishes, he would obey, as he was conditioned to.

Fox grinned sympathetically. By now he understood Six quite well, and did not need to read his expression to know what he thought of the command. "I know you don't like the idea. But I think that for now it is for the best. Not everyone is like you Six, we all can't be unkillable stalwart baddasses. There are some things best left till later." Not for the first time, he envied the spartan's resilience. He had handled the news on the possibility of an aparoid invasion without a single tell on his face, though he never really showed any emotion besides distaste anyways. It was as if the threat of invasion from another race was to him, a minor detail. And recalling Six's war fraught past, Fox supposed he was the only one of them with any kind of experience in a dire situation like this.

"Tell me Six..." Fox began, looking to his friend hopefully. "What would you do?" Certainly the spartan's familiarity with such a unique state of affairs left him with some kind of preemptive procedures they could follow.

The human warrior clasped his hands together under the table and assumed a more assertive pose, stretching over the table to speak in a low, but no less, powerful tone.

He did indeed have an expansive well of experience on problems of a similar caliber.

"If this threat is as real as you say, it's time you fully mobilize your military. Call in all the reserves, increase the intensity of your training regimens and rebuild your fleets. The sooner they prepare the better chance you will have to win. From what I have heard you possess no means of anticipating their attacks nor can you repel the type of force they are capable of exerting. Time runs against you in this fight and rapid response is the key to victory. Protecting noncombatants is vital, as is keeping them out of the fight. The populace needs to be drilled for rapid response emergency evacuation. If your people do not already have them, I would advise the General to establish civilian shelters on all planets as well as extraction vessels in all major starports. Believe me, you will need them."

It was sage advice, but the CDF hadn't done anything like that, not even during the wars with Venom. There were shelters of course, but the senate had never bothered with any sort of preparation initiatives. What Six was suggesting was little more than a full military takeover. "Essentially, you're saying we instill martial law?"

Six shrugged dismissively. "Call it whatever you want. But you'll do it if you want to have any chances to survive, or win for that matter. I know what it is like to face a technologically and numerically superior foe. All you can hope to do is defend your people and your planets and save as many lives as you can in the process." The war with the Covenant had taught him a great deal on defensive maneuvers and strategies, though most of what he knew was for when the enemy was already on the planet, area denial, guerrilla warfare, siege tactics, all things to buy time for escaping civilians and personnel, or for the arrival of more UNSC forces. However the methods did not matter so long as they achieved the same ends.

"That probably won't go down well with the civvies." Fox could only imagine the amount of public unease that would be generated if they followed Six's counsel, especially after it seemed the war would soon be over.

Once more the spartan was indifferent. "The advice is there. Do with it what you will. I'll fight by your side all the same. Though doing that would make my job easier." Six grinned, his smile capable of intimidating a hardened warrior, but not Fox. He knew the man too well now. He could tell when the spartan was being serious or not. Six did have a tangible sense of humor; it was just hard to read through all of his inlaid cynicism.

The vulpine returned his friend's smirk with one of his own, grateful for Six's attempt at wit, however bad it may be. It was comforting that the spartan could make light of the situation. It gave Fox the confidence to hope that they would come out the end of this thing alright. And that had been what he worried over the most since learning the news.

"Oh I wouldn't want to do that. Don't want you getting soft Six. After all you haven't threatened one of us is in a few weeks. I think you might be losing your touch." Fox chuckled.

The last time any threat had been uttered from the spartan had been a minor dispute with Falco back at the villa. The avian had tried to convince Six on the superiority of energy weapons. Needless to say, the disagreement had been quite amusing to watch for the team. 

Six's smirk remained unchanged, but the look in the spartan's cold red eyes choked the vulpine's laughter. He had only ever seen that look once, back when they had talked on the patio that one night. "No we wouldn't... would we?" The spartan inquired dispassionately.

"N-Not that, that's a b-bad thing m-mind you!" The tod recovered quickly with a nervous splutter.

He had gotten so comfortable around Six that he forgot who he was talking to. The spartan considered him a friend, (at least Fox hoped so), but there was still a lot of distance between them, distance that would be hard to cover, ranging both from species and even emotion. There was little to no common ground to share with him. And as long as Six's past was just a story the human did not like to tell, the vulpine would have a difficult time trying to relate.

Many times Fox had found himself wondering on the place Six had come from. What it must have been like to be in the human's shoes, or boots rather. He knew most of what the spartan had gone through, but it was the kind of thing one needed to see, for them to truly understand. What he talked of, a war of extinction against a tireless and vicious enemy that would not be satisfied until your entire race was obliterated down to the last man, woman, and child. Fox wanted to know, to understand the suffering of his comrade so that he could better help him recover from the psychological injuries such a war would unarguably leave behind in its wake.

But for now, he just hoped he hadn't undone some of the hard work he had put into getting the spartan to open up to him.

Thankfully, Six chuckled in amusement, the low easygoing rumble calming the worried vulpine. "You're right, it's not. Though I don't care for... losing my edge as you so frankly put it. Perhaps you can help me with that?" 

"Uh... sure." Fox agreed uncertainly, getting the uneasy feeling he had just kneeled under the headsman's axe, crescent blade poised and ready to strike. "How could I?"

The grin had yet to leave his rough expression. "I have been curious as to what type of hand-to-hand combat styles you cornerians utilize. And I understand there is a gymnasium onboard this ship... one with a sparring ring."

Fox's muzzle plummeted in horror, the vulpine slowly grasping what the spartan was suggesting. The very idea of trying to fight Six in any form, especially in a test of physical prowess, threatened to send his knees wobbling.

"I'm not really the ship's close quarter's expert. Miyu is the one that knows the most, her and Krystal." Fox suggested in hopes of diverting the spartan's curiosity on to others. The vixen had taken some of the skills she had learned from her fallen homeworld, and Miyu had been the toughest hand-to-hand fighter in her academy, top of her class. Together, they were the most experienced team members in that field. That, and he definitely did not want to step into the ring with Six on the other side or anywhere close. The vulpine fancied his bones unbroken and his internal organs firmly packed in his body where they belonged, things that were threatened if he tried to challenge Six in any capacity. Fox knew his limits, and a physically augmented supersoldier was definitely one of them. Even without his enhancements, the spartan boasted a wealth of military knowledge and experience honed over a lifetime waging the most grueling war imaginable.

"Is that so..." Six muttered to himself, cataloguing that information for later. "Still, what kind of mercenary would I be if I didn't test the endurance of my captain? Don't worry Fox... I'll go easy on you. I promise." The smirk on the spartan's face bloomed into a full on grin, a sight as rare as it was unsettling.

Fox was starting to regret trying to change him. "....Okay." He sighed in defeat, throwing his paws up in the air. "But not today, I think you'd rather spend it with Krystal." Fox added, both pushing Six's attention away from his idea and hoping to broach the subject with his comrade. He was genuinely curious to learn what it was that had changed from his previous stance on her. From what he had gathered, the spartan had shown little if any interest. Yet something had changed, literally overnight.

The human soldier's smile faded and the hardened glint in his eyes softened as he adopted his typical unfaltering silence. Six sunk into his chair and focused his attention onto the desk, clearly not comfortable with broaching the subject of the vixen currently sleeping his room.

Fox curiously observed this swift change in emotion. The vulpine was no stranger to love. Fara was his dream, had been since they were kids in school together. And on the day they reunited, it had been the best thing to happen to him since he recreated his father's mercenary company. Everyone needed someone, and he assumed that Six would be no exception, no matter his unusual background. So he was justifiably confused to why the spartan was finding it so difficult to embrace this fact. It seemed the human had already figured something out with the woman who adored him. Perhaps he was just uncomfortable talking about it with others?

If Fox had learned anything about the spartan in the past few months, it was that he was a man of few words. If he wanted to find out what had happened, he would have to approach the topic with a little more tact then he was used to, skirt around the issue until the spartan fessed up for himself.

"She's a good woman... Krystal. A guy would be lucky to have a girl like that." Fox stated casually, watching the spartan closely for any kind of reaction.

"Yes." Six replied ambiguously, the vulpine unsure of which remark he was acknowledging.

"You know... at first she had been adamant against you joining the team."

The spartan nodded.

"So you could imagine my surprise when her opinion changed so quickly. Krystal's really good at reading people as you might have guessed." Fox chuckled good-naturedly. "She must have seen something in you to make her change her mind so fast. And that makes me curious." The vulpine shrugged; matching the spartan's gaze as he lifted his eyes from the desk, stooping closer. "But honestly, I'm even more curious about what you think. So Six, tell me... what do you see in her?"

Fox studied the spartan, watched as his expression went through a series of brief transformations until settling on his blank mask, the look that was just as unreadable as the visor he hid behind.

"Do you want to know what it is I see in her?"

Fox nodded keenly, eager to find out.

"I see the life I lost the day my family was slaughtered and my world, burned to ash. I see the ruthless training facility where at the age of five I spent most of my life being forcibly molded into a solider to fight in a war I knew I would die in. I see every death I have witnessed and been part of since the moment I picked up a gun." The bitterness in the spartan's acrid words was almost as potent as their intent and Fox found that he could not find the words to respond to the unexpected tirade.

Six paused, the intensity of the flickering rage behind his eyes fading. "I see what makes that agonizing existence, all the hardship, pain, and loss... worth every single excruciating, nearly unendurable moment. I see why soldiers like me were created, what it was we were meant to protect. There is nothing I would not do for her, no length to which I would not go to protect the one who showed me why it is I fight. Why it is I became who I am today." 

Fox was speechless, stunned by the gravity of the spartan's confession, and that he would confide in him with words that had undoubtedly come from the heart. The vulpine had been planning to try and have a big brother talk for Krystal on her behalf. But now he saw that would be unnecessary. He had never known Six to tell a lie. And he knew that she would be safer with the spartan then with any male in the entirety of the Lylat System.

Six grinned half-heartedly; a surprising show of humanity on the spartan's behalf. "You must be wondering why I would tell you this?"

The vulpine could only nod mutely.

"I... trust you, Fox. You are a good man, a solid leader and a competent warrior. I am grateful that you took me in, even when at the time I was disinclined to join. After Reach, I never thought I would find a... team, like Noble, but you have shown me how wrong that assumption was. There is not a single place I would rather be then right here, right now. I believe on the day I joined Starfox I said I would follow you to the gates of hell." A different kind of fire lay in the spartan's crimson eyes as he flashed a fierce grin. "I want you to know, I would fight through all nine layers." 

Six suddenly rose up from his seat and gave the vulpine a crisp salute. "It is an honor to be here, Sir. And I'll stay for as long as you'll have me." The spartan did not linger after his words, shifting on his heels and marching out the door.

Fox watched the human soldier leave, minutes passing before he moved. The vulpine rubbed his eyes with a furred fist, drying the unanticipated wetness that had developed underneath them.

*****

As Slippy glared at the partly assembled contraption lying abandoned on his workbench, he tried his hardest not to have a conniption fit. After so long, he was close to finalizing the work on one of his many side projects. While possible in theory, the practice behind it was harder to realize. Thankfully, an idea had come to him, something he had overheard recently that gave him newfound inspiration.

Originally, the energy powering the device was to cycle through the conductive edge. But now, he had decided to scrap that plan entirely in favor of something as simple as it was unconventional. Yet before he could get started on the changes, he had to deconstruct the original specs and convert the power supply to handle a transition that would put more stress on the generator, which meant he would have to solve the issue of power limitations. From this of course, another dilemma would reveal itself. How he was supposed to find a battery powerful enough to keep the device powered for extended use and endure any amount of unforeseeable stress factors.

Despite this, the toad could not be happier to be once more immersed in a technological challenge. Fox may be a legendary fighter ace, but just as the vulpine was skilled in a cockpit, so was Slippy in the art of engineering. There was no mechanical problem he could not fix, and if by remarkable chance there did indeed exist such a thing, he could easily invent a way around it.

He had already finished most of the concept work on Six's armaments, piecing together the inner mechanics of the weapon designs he had sketched out shortly after the spartan bestowed his guns upon him. And Slippy was willing to admit he had impressed even himself with what he had devised. They would be the culmination of his work, his masterpieces. For hours he had labored over fantastical theories and mathematical conceptions, bridging the extensive gap between ballistic and thermal weaponry. All he needed now was to implement his theories into actual practice. But before then, he wanted to pour all his focus into this device he was trying to create, a late gift for Six, one he hoped the spartan would appreciate.

He took all of what he knew about the spartan and assumed it would be the type of present that catered to his interests. Slippy would have never believed it to be a practical tool but after observing the spartan's... unique methods. He realized it would be a perfect match for his tastes, or so the toad hoped.

As he toiled away, the amphibian occasionally glanced up to the suit of armor he had meticulously cleaned, scrubbing away the thick clotting of caked on gore and carbon scoring etched into the battle worn cerulean plates. That had been one of the more unpleasant tasks he had ever assigned to himself, but it was the most he could do to help his friend. After he had finished washing the suit, he had discovered that there was nowhere to put it, and so Slippy had decided to do Six another favor, quickly machining a stand to rest the heavy armor on. It wasn't one of his best works, far from it actually, being little more than a quick fix. Yet it did the job just fine.

Just hanging it up had been a chore in itself for the toad, even with Fay's help. Neither was especially strong and the battlesuit weighed nearly as much as half the machinery in the shop. They would have never been able to get it on the rack without the crane lift, a device he used to raise the replacement parts for the arwings and the landmaster while he worked on them.

The armor had seen better days, nearly all of the bright sapphire paint that had once tinted the suit had been worn away by time and war, exposing the scared silver hue of the naked alloy underneath. The gauntlets were charred up to the forearm plates, the shadowy charcoal residue ending just above the battered elbow guards. On the left side just under where the wearer's ribs would be, a circular hole punctured through the heavy plating, rimmed with torn metal fragments. The greaves were chipped and tattered, speaking of a lifetime of heavy fighting in close quarters. Notches marked the entire surface of the suit where heated blades and blunt instruments had impacted the thick steel.

Slippy was a master mechanic, and he could tell that despite its current dilapidated state, underneath all that abuse was a masterpiece of military engineering that was lightyears ahead of anything either Venom or Corneria was capable of producing. It was a marvel really, a feat of tactical industry of the likes he had never seen in all his years working closely with his father.

Guiltily, he had been unable to resist studying the armor now that the spartan was not currently occupying it. And what he discovered was a military contractor's wet dream. Fashioned of some unknown alien metal that far surpassed the types of steel they were capable of manufacturing to date, it was more durable than most of the materials used in armored vehicles and starship hull plating presently in use by the CDF. And Slippy regretted not remembering what kinds of materials the spartan had requested to use in the repairs.

A look into the helmet and breastplate had revealed that the suit functioned off an internal generator, powered by what he believed to be a fusion reactor of some type, providing the suit with nearly limitless energy to draw upon. The fact that Six's race was capable of producing such small scale, large quantity energy generation was an incredible discovery in itself.

The toad did not know what technology was put into the bodysuit, but he could only assume it to be as equally impressive as what he saw here. If the CDF was able to get the information in the designs of the spartan's armor, Slippy could only imagine what strides in research and development they could make. It would change the field of war, and possibly even the civilian sector, forever.

He had spent a time trying to understand the method to which the armor used the shielding system Slippy had seen Six employ. But the method was beyond his grasp of understanding. It was as if the humans had taken it from an even more advanced source as it seemed to function of a completely different set of rules, using some sort of process he had never seen before.

Maybe if he had more time he could have cracked the system, but he couldn't breach Six's trust like that, nor was he willing to face the consequences if he did. His hope was to ask the spartan later and perhaps get his permission first. If he could get it, the possibilities for enhancements in the defensive abilities of the team's gear were endless.

Slippy was glad to have a soldier like Six on their team, if not for anything then the scientific wonders he could uncover just from being near him and the peace of mind it gave him while his friends were on mission. That and the chance to learn from another race, was too good to pass up.

As the amphibian daydreamed on the possibilities of different technologies, he heard the sliding doors to the engineering room hiss open. Wondering if maybe Fay had come back for something, the toad turned to help her. And was suitably surprised to see Six walking about. The spartan was back into the primary shell of his armor, a form fitting underlayer that covered him from down to his feet and all the way up to his neck. That alone was a formidable piece of defense, composed of materials of alien manufacture and what looked like additional alloy that provided a supplementary layer of protection.

He could see why Six was quite literally a walking tank. After his in-depth examination of the soldier's armor, he knew now that they had never been truly close to seeing the full extent of Six's capabilities. The spartan had been holding himself back from the beginning. He was truly a god of the battlefield, the spirit of divine retribution. And to think, he had been just one of many other warriors like him. The scale of warfare the humans appeared to wage was a league all its own, compared to the Lylat System.

It seemed as if the human was looking for something, finding what he needed in the form of the toad that had been watching him. Picking up his pace, Six made his way towards the amphibian weaving through the cluttered mess of Slippy's workshop. He looked to be barely affected by the injuries he had suffered in the battle on Fortuna, and the toad was not surprised after all he had uncovered.

"Hey Six, didn't think to see you of bed so soon. But I can firmly say I'm glad to see you back on your feet!" He greeted the spartan cheerfully, truly happy to know his friend was okay. They did not talk much, but he liked the spartan, even with his eccentricity. Like himself, the human was inclined to mechanics and not too bad with them either.

Six's lips curled into a virtually unreadable smile, the corners of his mouth raising a hairsbreadth as he looked down upon the portly toad. "It'll take more than that to put me down."

"Don't I know it." Slippy laughed, dropping the miniaturized capacitor he held in his webbed hands. It was not quite the right fit for what he needed. In order for the device he was creating to work, he had to find a smaller battery that could hold a longer charge. "So, what can I do ya for?" It was clear to him that the spartan had come down here with a purpose. After all, he did everything with purpose.

Six glanced over the amphibian to his armor mounted on the stand Slippy had created. "My purpose is twofold. First, I wanted to thank you for caring for my MJOLNIR while I was otherwise... occupied. Secondly, I had a question I needed to ask."

Slippy shrugged of the spartan's gratitude. "It was nothing a friend wouldn't do."

"...Of course." Six dipped his head tentatively in acknowledgment, his faint smile faltering. He still was not quite comfortable with the nomination. But he was doing his best to embrace it.

"So, what's the question you needed to ask?" The toad inquired, oblivious to the spartan's facial que.

"Does the Great Fox's carry paint in its inventory?"

It was a slightly obscure request, but that did not phase Slippy. "Yeah, I have a couple cans here and down on the storage deck, gotta keep the team's colors flying somehow."

"Would it be possibly for me to have access to the supply?" Six questioned.

"Yeah of course, you're part of the team. What's ours is yours. You need help finding the right colors?"

"No." The spartan replied with a curt shake of his head.

"Alright, well the cans I have up here are in the back by the lathe. If you can't find what you want there then head down to the stowage deck. I keep the paints in storage room B. They're next to the spare G-diffusers."

"Thank you." Six passed the toad and checked over by the lathe for the specific colors he had in mind, and was pleased to see that they were indeed there, not a surprise considering they were the team's main colors. Sorting through the buckets with his eyes, he grabbed the three cans he needed and set them down over by his armor.

Looking back to Slippy, he saw that the toad was once more engrossed in whatever project he was currently working on. Seeing that he had some level of privacy, Six focused on his MJOLNIR, running a gloved hand down the scorched plating along the gauntlets. The damage was most extensive there and would take the longest to repair. Deciding that was the best place to start he retrieved the materials he had taken time to prepare weeks prior and got to work.

*****

With a loud yawn, Krystal languidly stretched herself out across the bed, groaning happily as she loosened the cramped muscles in her back, the vixen gliding her paws across the cool sheets and tucking them under the pillow, resting her muzzle against the downy cushion with a satisfied sigh. Eyes closed, she buried her snout into the silken casing and inhaled deeply, drawing in the exquisite scent of her male.

She had waited so long to reach this point, and she intended to enjoy every second. Though she was disappointed to wake up to the absence of Six. But she knew the spartan well, and he was probably already wandering the ship with a purpose. And for once, that didn't bother her. She had finally obtained what she wanted. No matter where he was, he would come back to her, and that was all that mattered to her now.

However, Krystal was willing to admit that she was somewhat disappointed. The vixen had been hoping to get some more time in bed with him and bask in his company now that they had reached the next step in their relationship. But perhaps she should just count herself lucky that he had allowed her to get in the time that she did. He was still not used to this level of affection and she recalled how uncomfortable he had been at the start. It would take time to whittle away at his barriers, and hopefully, sometime soon, she could see how far should could push this. Now that her fantasies had a chance to come true, she found herself yearning to make them a reality.

But for now she would just lay here and enjoy his particular brand of scent. Six had no distinctly unique fragrance, just the natural aroma of a clean body and the faint lingering trace of weapon oils. Not particularly romantic or heady by definition, but it was his, and that's all she cared about.

The vixen allowed herself a few more minutes to linger in his bed before at last deciding to get up. After all, his scent may be there, but he wasn't. Picking at her clothes, Krystal left his room and made a quick trip to her own to change. A swift swap of outfits later and she went out to see what the team was up to.

Strolling through the ship, she found Falco in the rec center. The avian seemed more adamant about his training than usual. Seeing him in one of his focused moods, she decided to leave him be, knowing how he got when anyone interrupted him. Fay was down in the common area, munching away at a burrito as she scrolled through a data pad. An enquiry told Krystal she was working on some sort of upgrade for the radio transmitter onboard the ship, trying to puzzle out a decent encryption on their transmissions.

Krystal decided to spend a little while in the common room, chatting with Fay while she worked. She didn't know much about radio waves or canceling out frequencies but she did want to spend some time with Fay since they did not do so often. Eventually though, she got lost in the technical jargon and just decided to let the spaniel talk without interruption.

Sometime into their conversation, Miyu arrived, the feline making a beeline towards the vending machine and inputting her meal order. And within a few minutes a tray popped out of the small hatch, a steaming bowl of tomato soup and a side of grilled cheese freshly made and ready to be eaten. Sometimes, the technology the system used amazed Krystal. Cerinia had never had a machine like that, not being a technologically minded race.

Miyu grabbed the tray and lazily made her way over to the table, sliding it into position in front of her as she lithely set herself down.

"Hey Miyu." Fay greeted her friend cheerily and set down her half eaten burrito.

"Sup." The cat replied neutrally, dipping her spoon into the red broth and pushing the utensil into her waiting maw.

"Did you see Six? I heard he's back up on his feet already. Can you believe that?" The spaniel asked amiably.

Krystal watched as the lynx halted.

Miyu stopped the spoon from making its next round to her muzzle, eying the snowy canine darkly. "No. He was gone when I woke up... in fact they both were." The feline's amber gaze shifted to linger on Krystal, eying the vixen with intent. And she could feel the ire brooding in her friend's thoughts. "Kinda sucked, ya now?"

Fay picked up on the suddenly frosty atmosphere, seeing that something had upset the lynx. Not one to handle confrontations well, she quickly excused herself. "I'll uh... get going now. I want to run this new encryption algorithm over with Fox, see what he has to say about it. See ya gals later!" The canine vanished almost instantly, the only sound of her departure being the doors shutting loudly behind her.

Now alone with Miyu, Krystal focused her full attention on her disgruntled friend. "How are you?" She inquired politely. Reading her friend's emotions however, she already knew how the cat was.

Her concern only infuriated the feline more. "Oh don't give me that load of bullshit!" Miyu hissed, releasing her spoon and letting fall into her bowl. The utensil sunk into the crimson broth with a loud splash, splattering tomato juice all over the table. "You damn well know how I'm doing. You and Six just traipsed off, not giving a damn about me!"

Krystal shook her muzzle adamantly. "That's not how it was at all." She could see why Miyu would be upset. And she could only sense that there was more than just ordinary anger here. The lynx was infuriated at more than the fact they had left her behind.

"That's exactly how it was!" The cat snarled through clenched teeth. "Apparently I wasn't even worth waking up, not like I was worried about him either. But no... who needs her anyways? Fuck me, right?!" Miyu growled mockingly, claws screeching against the table as she curled her paws into fists. The feline had a right to be angry. It seemed every time she tried to show Six that she cared, she was refuted and dismissively ignored. It was enough to make her want to scream!

Krystal serenely weathered the storm of the cat's anger, knowing she was partly at fault. It was true, they had left her behind. And she had not given much thought to Miyu, how she must have felt. Now that Krystal looked back, she could see that she had not been the only one with an interest in the spartan, in fact it had been blatantly obvious. She just had not wanted to see it. Yet Krystal did not think Six was at all to blame for this. She doubted he had bypassed with any ill intent. That just wasn't like him. He had simply prioritized his duties, and the vixen was lucky enough that she sat on top of that long list. And she felt a need to defend his actions.

"I swear to you that was not what happened." Krystal made sure to convey her certainty in that regard. Miyu was her friend first, and teammate second. And the vixen was willing to what she could to smooth this situation out. "Six just wanted to talk with me privately. Otherwise I would have been the first to wake you. You know that."

Hearing the vixen's sincere tone, Miyu's expression of anger faltered, hesitation making itself known on her muzzle as she thought over what Krystal said, knowing subconsciously, that her friend was speaking the truth. A silent moment passed before the cat sighed, slouching her shoulders and muttering harshly to herself. "Why does he always want to talk to you?"

Krystal reached over the table and rested a paw on her friends arm supportively. She knew this was upsetting Miyu, but she had to let her friend know. "He wanted to talk and I... well I told him how I felt."

"You did?" The feline gasped in equal parts shock and jealousy. She had known for a while that Krystal had felt something for the spartan. But she had not thought the reserved fox would ever get the courage to confess.

"Yes... and he accepted." The vixen finished with a small apologetic smile.

"So..." Miyu mumbled quietly, piecing it together and realizing her chances with Six had been effectively ridden into the ground and shot through the head. "That's it then.... I'm just essentially... what... out of luck? I was just too slow?" She desperately tried to grasp for a reason that would explain all this craziness.

"He will always be your friend." Krystal added, hoping to console her friend.

"But nothing more... right?" Miyu muttered bitterly.

"I..." Krystal hesitated, having nothing she could say to answer that in a way that would please her friend.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Miyu growled quietly. "I hope you're happy with him." The feline pulled herself away from the table in a fury and stormed off, tail lashing violently behind her as she thundered out of sight.

Krystal watched her friend depart, a deep frown etched into the slender curves of her muzzle. Sighing in resignation, the vixen dropped her furred head to the table and groaned through clenched teeth. She was happy with what she had with Six.

So why did she feel so terrible?

*****

'That's one part finished.' Six set down the newly refurbished gauntlet, neatly laying the piece of cumbersome armor beside its twin; both having been repaired to the best of the spartan's abilities. They looked as close to new as he would ever be able to make them, scratches buffed out and reinforced with the extra materials he manufactured weeks ago. All that was left was to slap a fresh coat of paint and they would be good to go.

Restoring the gauntlets alone had cost him several hours, the process of repairs being a slow and tedious one with the conditions he had to work with. If he had better facilities of the likes of ONI, he would have been able to finish the entire suit in the time it had taken to fix them. Yet he would not give what he had now, even if he had the chance to go back. He was done with ONI, with humanity. They were gone, or at least in a place he would never find. And he had no problem keeping it that way.

Six returned the gauntlets to the stand and hefted the bulky breastplate, transferring the slab of titanium alloy over to the workbench he had been tinkering on for the past few hours. He set down the weighty hunk of steel, a dull bang echoing in the empty workshop as he reached for the bin of pre-rendered armor components. Sifting through the mismatched selection, he picked one of the smaller sheets of titanium, less than a centimeter thick, and laid it across the right pectoral of the breastplate.

One thing he did miss about the UNSC was its efficient supply lines. Back in the war, he could expect to have a replacement part shipped to his location in less than a week. But here, he had to rely on what he had, which was why he had to rely on this less than satisfactory method. The spartan grabbed a blowtorch and hammer, flicking the hose on and activating the pilot light. He used the plasma fueled device to heat the thin sheet metal over the armor, intending to hammer it to the contours of the breastplate. It was a barbaric means of renovation, but an effective one nonetheless.

Knowing the high heat caused by extended use of a plasma torch in a sweltering place like the workshop, he had pulled down the top section of his bodysuit, letting it hang from his waist in the same way as he had done for Miyu. With his armor being worked on below him, he did not have the use of its internal temperature monitoring system. He was thankful that the inner workings of his MJOLNIR had been unaffected. While capable of fixing the more straightforward aspects of his suit, he had little understanding of the electronic nature of the powered armor and would not have been able to solve any malfunctions therein.

Six picked up the hammer, the sheet metal placed carefully on his armor now glowing a bright cherry red. Gathering a portion of his strength, he brought the hammer swinging down; smashing the hunk of blunt iron into the heated steel in a dazzling spray of sparks that bounced harmlessly off his bare chest.

With heavy practiced motions, he molded the thin metallic pane to the characterized muscle-like delineations of the hunk of armor. Once finished cooled, he would chisel out any flaws and set it aside for painting. It and the greaves should be what take the longest to repair, his helmet had managed to avoid the majority of the damage he suffered in battle, and would only need minimal corrections to restore it to full working order.

Finished hammering first the piece of titanium, he reached for another and placed it on the left side.

So concentrated was he on his work, Six did not realize he was no longer alone. Krystal had come down here in search of him, figuring that it had to be the last place he could be. Yet the vixen had not figured on finding him half-naked and hammering on his armor like a feudal blacksmith. She stood frozen in the doorway, a tray of forgotten food held in either paw as she watched him work, mesmerized at the sight.

With lips pulled into a focused grimace, the spartan used a small share of his impressive strength to bend the metal to his will with each weighted stroke of iron upon steel.

Krystal watched with a startling rush of budding desire and arousal, her yearning emerald eyes thoroughly tracing each flex of his impressive muscles as the reverberating clang of the pounding hammer matching the throbbing beat of her now racing heart. Stricken helpless with inaction, she unable to tear her eyes away from a sight that would haunt her for days with its lusty suggestions. She wished her paws were not so otherwise occupied so that she might have been able to put them to better use somewhere lower.

The unawares spartan finished the piece he was working on and reached for another when he noticed the vixen standing by the door, who flinched when his hard crimson gaze rested on her. He made no outwards reaction at seeing her other then carefully setting down the hammer.

Taking her que, Krystal buried her lurid thoughts and crossed the room towards him. As she closed in, Six folded his arms across his exposed chest, eyeing her neutrally as she made her advance and the vixen doing her best to ignore the sweat glistening on his pale skin.

"Hey Six, you hungry?" She asked, offering the extra meal tray she had brought for him. Not knowing the spartan's taste for anything other than Carobollen, she decided to get him a sandwich and hope for the best.

The spartan nodded and took the tray from her, clearing a space off a worktable to set it down. "Yes, thank you." Smithing was indeed tiring work that built up an appetite, even for one like him. Six turned his attention back to Krystal, and upon noticing something he quickly walked off and returned with a short crate for her to sit on, motioning for her to take a seat.

Smiling up at him, she set herself down on the storage box and gently placed her tray on her lap.

With her taken care of, Six leaned against the table he had been using and studied the food he had received. It looked not that different then what he had sometimes eaten when in transit from one battlefield to another, a sandwich with white bread and some type of meat and leafy grins. Shrugging, he took a bite out of it.

Not bad, a little dry but nothing worth complaining about. As long as it kept his body fueled he cared little for taste. 

They say in silence for a time, neither offering any words to broker a conversation. To both, this relationship was still new ground upon which to tread and there was still a great deal of uncertainty to work past.

Six was not sure what one did once a relationship was established and still knew little on its meaning. But he did enjoy her company, even as it was so muted. It brought him that same armistice of emotion that he had once considered uncomfortable but now merely... unique.

Krystal was just glad to have the prize of his company and the attention of his thoughts. She felt accomplished and lucky that a man as distinctive as Six found reason to stay with her and appreciate her presence. But it also sought to remind her of someone else who had desired the same thing, someone also close to her heart.

Six looked up from his meal and noted the grim curl of her muzzle. "What troubles you?" He would always remain concerned over her wellbeing, of that he knew to be certain, no matter their vaguely understood romantic affiliation.

Reacting to the gruff sound of his voice, the vixen faced him, turning her grimace into a smile. "Oh, you don't have to worry about it." She hoped to brush him off. None of the situation with Miyu was directly faulted onto him, it was something she wanted to remain between them until it was handled.

"You should know deflection will not work on me." He retorted casually, setting down his sandwich and eyeing her with more intent. He did not need the vixen's powers to tell when something was wrong. Instincts earned over years of brutal war gave him much the same type of sixth sense. He had spent his life learning the minute emotional ques of power armored soldiers, so he could read body language fairly effectively. And he had learned the tells of this alien race as well. It was quite clear to him that something troubled her dearly. And it was his responsibility to find that trouble and remove it.

Krystal's smile wavered until she sighed wryly, with a soft, inwardly amused chuckle. "I should have, shouldn't I?"

Six nodded stiffly.

Knowing he would not relent, she tried to ponder a way of telling him the truth without really telling. She doubted he would understand the more refined intricacies of a gritty romantic triad. 

"Miyu... she's a good friend right?" The vixen wondered aloud.

Six paused, clearly not having expected her to ask such a roundabout question.

"She is a part of the team." He replied with an unbiased frankness. He felt as if he had suddenly stepped into minefield and only his wits would see him out to the end unscathed. Internally, he did consider her to be a good team member, a good... comrade. But he was never sure what to feel about her. Just as with the others, he felt the need to protect her. She was a member of his team and as such he had a responsibility for her welfare just as with the rest of Starfox. Yet it was slightly more than that. Her mother had passed in war, as had his own. And while he did not have the same memories as she, he understood her pain. If he could, he would have seen that her pain ended. His own mother had always been a peculiar topic for him, the very one that had almost triggered him to kill the psychiatrist that had interview him. Perhaps he hoped that if he understood her better he could find his own closure on the issue of a woman he hardly remembered, yet had given him so much. 

"Yes, but do you... feel anything about her?" Krystal asked timidly.

"Like what?" He asked in confusion, not sure where she was trying to take this conversation.

"Like the way you feel about me." She prompted finally, curious and anxious of what his answer might be. The vixen watched his face closely, hoping to read his expression, yet she could not crack his unwavering blank mask.

Six pondered on what Krystal was suggesting, that he cared for her wellbeing in the same way as he did hers. And he supposed... deep down where he dared not tread even in himself, that she did mean a great deal to him. But so did Fox, he was the one who gave Six this opportunity that allowed him to find all of this inside himself. He cared for the vulpine just as much as he did Krystal, though in a different way. So yes, he did care for the lynx, he just could not tell how far that care extended. And so, never one to tell a lie, he answered her.

"I don't know."

Krystal nodded perceptively, having expected an answer along those lines. Six had no experience in something like this so it went without saying that he would be confused. She could have worried over it, but for now, she decided to leave it be.

"Alright, thanks for being honest, Six." She turned her attention back to her food and reached for the fork.

The spartan was silent, not sure what he had said or how it impacted her and at the moment he wished things could be simpler. He could meet a losing battle with stiff resolve, but he could never understand the heart of a woman. But he supposed, some things were never meant to be understood by the minds of men.

*****

They finished their meal in silence, not uncomfortable, but companionable. By the time they had empty trays Six checked the clock in the room, seeing that it was late in the evening. He had spent most his day overseeing the repairs of his armor, and his talk with Fox.

Six studied Krystal as she cleaned up their mess, the vixen completely oblivious to the possible destruction of their way of life. And for the first time since he was shipped off Currahee, he felt the desire to disobey the direct order of a superior officer. He wanted to tell her of the aparoids, of what might happen to them. He appreciated her too much to want to keep her in the dark, even if the information might dismay her. She deserved to know what was at stake, what could be lost.

What he might lose.

Krystal hummed a tune to herself as she dumped the empty plates into the trash bin, tail merrily swishing at her side. Despite his answer, she still loved him. It was not his fault if he felt that way. He knew no other way to think. All she had to do was find a way to resolve this issue, and hopefully keep everyone happy, especially Six. He deserved to find happiness after all he had been through, after what his own people had done to him. And if she had to make a small sacrifice to give him that, she would.

The vixen turned around, surprised to find herself so suddenly enclosed in the spartan's embrace. "Six!" She gasped in pleasant surprise as the spartan held her close. Krystal did not waste thought power trying to understand this sudden change in her spartan. It was much better to just live in the moment, here with him.

The spartan's mind was occupied by thoughts less cheerful then hers.

If these aparoids came, if they intended to bring an end to the new existence he had managed to ferociously claw for himself.

He would end them first.

She could feel the ship's artificial gravity pull on her as Six lifted her off the deck to press her closer, the strength of his hold almost enough to steal her breath away. No. What stole her breath was not his embrace, but the kiss that followed. Seizing her chance, Krystal wormed her muzzle closer and aggressively pressed her lips against his. This being what she wanted for so long, she made sure to give it her all. She wanted to be out of breath by the time she was finished.

The spartan did react to her kiss, flinching at the unexpected contact. But for once, in a move that made her love him all the more, he did not pull away. Sure, he was about as responsive as a brick wall, but she hoped to work on that in time. Feeling the warmth of his mouth on hers was enough to satisfy her craving... for now.

Eventually, Six gingerly set her down on the deck and took a slow step back, hesitancy plastered heavily across his rugged features. It was obvious to her that he had stepped far out of his comfort zone with that action. Wanting to show him how much she appreciated it, Krystal matched his step backwards with one forwards, hugging his chest. "Thank you." She whispered softly, clutching him fiercely enough that her claws dug into his skin, but did not draw blood.

The human soldier nodded apprehensively, patting her on the back, the only way he knew how to respond at the moment.

"Come on, I think you worked hard enough today." She suggested, grabbing him by the hand and lead him out of the room.

The spartan silently, but diligently, followed after her as she took him back to his quarters, she guiding him along like a lost lamb. Whether he had reverted back to the conditioned responses of his youth or had just decided to follow, she was not sure. Krystal had to remind herself that he had been through a lot, emotionally and physically, and there were some things he was, as of now, just not mentally equipped to handle. Perhaps she should have taken things a little slower with the kiss?

But, there was no going back now, what was done was done. As she walked, the vixen glanced back towards the spartan, whose expression had remained unchanged, the look of confusion and uncertainty still clinging to his face.

However, once they arrived back in his room he seemed to regain some of his older self. He slipped the top half of his suit back over his shoulders and climbed into his bed. This came as a surprise to her, as from what she had come to know about him, he was reluctant to sleep. If he was so quick to change that... perhaps the kiss may have indeed been a bad idea.

Feeling somewhat guilty, Krystal decided to not press the issue and turned to leave. She would have preferred sleeping in his bed, but she knew she had pressed him to hard. He had come out of his safe zone for her, and she exploited that.

Sighing at the extent of her own foolishness, she turned to leave.

"You do not have to leave... if you do not want." The spartan called out to the departing vixen, stopping her in her tracks.

Slowly, she turned to face him with a weary smile.

The spartan sat up from his bed, legs firmly planted on the deck beside it.

What she did had caught him by surprise, and he was not at all certain on how to take it. For now he decided to compartmentalize, throw what happened deep into his mind till he could give it more thought. And if at any other time, where the dread threat they faced did not loom over them, he might have turned away from Krystal and let her walk out the door, and perhaps, even his life. 

But now, facing a time where he could lose everything at any point...

He decided that some changes had to come sooner rather than later.

The vixen, overjoyed at what he offered, smiled and returned to his side, sitting on the bed next to him and.

"I just want to show you that I care." She tried to explain herself now that she knew he would not push her away.

"I know."

He wrapped his hand around her paw and squeezed gently.

"So do I."


	19. Recreation Part 1

Chapter 18: Recreation Part 1

 

"So, you guys all set?"

Fox stood at the edge of the lowered main access ramp of the Great Fox. In front of him, the seven women who had been temporary guests aboard his ship. They looked better than when he first saw them, tattered uniforms exchanged and cleanly washed. But while they appeared well, their gaunt expressions spoke of their tortured experience at the behest of Venom. He did not want to imagine what they had been through while captured. Thankfully, they were now back home, safe and sound.

"Yes. Thank you." Their elected leader replied, a female husky by the name of Sasha whose tone was heavily inflected with open gratitude. "Your team has done so much for us. I can see why the rest of the system thinks you are all heroes, because it's true."

Fox chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his furred head in discomfort. He had never grown used to all the praise that came with their reputation. It didn't seem right to him, to be applauded for doing the right thing, it made it all seem less meaningful. "Don't go on spouting stories, we just did what was right. And I didn't really do anything for you. It was Six that got you all out of there."

The canine nodded thoughtfully. "So that's his name, Six." She rolled the unfamiliar designation around her tongue. "His name is about as... odd, as he is."

Fox laughed. "Odd... that's certainly one way of putting it." 

"Is he... alright?" The skunk standing close to the husky asked. She and the husky were the only vocal members of their group. The others probably had more than enough on their minds already to keep them distracted.

"Oh yeah he's fine, just needs a little time to recover." The tod was quite amazed with the spartan's durability. He wouldn't mind having a suit of armor like that himself, though he theorized it was more of the man underneath.

The vulpine overheard a gentle thrumming in the open air, effortlessly recognizing the echoing dull roar as belonging to the turbines of a C-20 Starlifter. Turning his eyes to the sky, Fox watched the oblong military transport shuttle as it speedily closed in on their position. "It looks like your guys' ride is here."

"I was hoping that we might have been able to say goodbye to the one that saved us." The husky frowned in disappointment.

"He sends his apologies, but at the moment he's still recovering from his wounds." Well... that's what he decided to tell them. Truth of the matter was, Six didn't want to see them off, said something rather... disdainful, about their need to thank him. To loosely quote the spartan, he was doing his job and he didn't need thanks for that.

Fox decided they didn't need to hear that bit.

"Yes of course, we understand." Their leader nodded sincerely, the transport lowering to the ground behind them. "But please don't forget to convey our appreciation. He saved us from a fate worse than death." The husky shuddered; recalling what exactly that fate would have been, had help not come in time.

"Oh don't worry. I'll be sure to let him know as soon as I see him next."

To their backs, the ramp of the transport descended and a small squad of MPs disembarked, moving to approach. They had been called in to take the women back to the closest base for additional medical checkups and possible reassignment if they were still up to the task. Despite the horror of their time under venomian control, the CDF had need of personnel, perhaps now more than ever with this new threat looming over them, one only a few people were privy to.

Fox said his goodbyes to the small group of females and waited till they were loaded onto the transport. Once it was back in the skies he decided to head into the ship.

He hoped they would be able to come to grips with what they had been forced to endure.

The vulpine closed the ramp behind him and fiddled with his comms bracer. There was one last thing left on his agenda for the day.

 

*****

 

Six examined the MJOLNIR suspended on its armor stand. Most of the repairs were complete. He just needed to finish the section of his armor that had been breached during his chaotic reentry over Fortuna. Everything else had been patched to the best of his abilities and was now just awaiting a few coats of fresh paint. He had already decided on the colors, something that would better show his reaffirmed allegiance to Starfox.

Once the paint was applied, the true last objective he had to complete was the bi-annual software update. While his armor was not equipped with an A.I, it did have the capabilities to accommodate one. But without an artificial intelligence, he had to rely on its standard equipped dumb ware, which needed to update itself every six months or so. He was actually a few weeks behind on that, but after the hectic mess of the past few months, it had been all but forgotten. He had bigger problems to worry about. However, now having all this extra time to himself, he was able to resume the handling of issues he had kept on backlog since before Reach.

He still had to comb through his suit's passive cumulative database, revise his combat logs, and edit his battle records. While this process was rendered wholly unnecessary since he no longer had to turn over such information to his superiors on a bi-monthly basis, it had become a force of habit, something benign that connected him to his willfully abandoned past.

But perhaps it was not as redundant as he thought.

He was here now, glad to be, yet he was still not confident enough to deviate away from his customary routines. And he supposed he did in fact have a superior to report to. But before he decided to go through with what he was thinking, he needed some time to consider. Something like that would not be easy for him.

But that was thought for later, at the moment he wanted to get that hole in his armor fixed. Fortunately, he had the information and means to repair such a large crater. He needed to plug the breach and recreate the same bonding agent he had seen used before, of which he could manufacture with the team's facilities. It was something UNSC scientists had developed only days before his relocation to Reach, a mixture of synthesized materials that once combined, would fill any breach in an armor system's plating and harden over a period of time, reinforcing the structure. He had seen the tests, but this would be his first time applying it for himself. Hopefully it worked as well as it did in the labs.

"Will you ever stop working?"

The spartan paused in his efforts and turned to Fox, who had entered the room a few moments ago. He had of course noticed and catalogued his commander's arrival but saw no need to address him, knowing full well the vulpine would handle that in his stead.

"When I'm dead." Six replied indifferently as he set down the unrefined chunk of titanium he had been readying to mold to the specifications required. While he might not constantly be at war, he still had a plethora of issues to resolve, both personal and broad ranging. He was aware of the need to keep himself occupied; knowing that an idle spartan was not a content one. So it was for the best really.

Spartan's did not handle tedium with grace, especially one like him. No matter how unassuming or insignificant the work might seem, no matter how trivial or odd, he would do it. For as long as his body was working, his mind wasn't.

With the ever increasing spare time for thought came certain memories he would rather leave forgotten, things better off lost in his past. As long as he kept busy, his inner demons would remain dormant, as he preferred.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." The unawares vulpine moved to stand beside the spartan with a chuckle. "So... what are you doing?" He asked. An eye scanning the spartan's neatly organized worktable.

The human waived a hand over the collection of tools and materials he had acquired. "Preforming repairs."

 

Fox smirked. "You can fight on the ground, kick ass in the sky, strategize on an interplanetary scale, lead soldiers into battle, and even fix things. Is there anything you can't do?"

"No." The spartan stated confidently as he resumed his work, fitting the cylindrical hunk of metal into a piston press.

"Wow, humble too. You're just the full package deal. Aren't ya?" Fox muttered sarcastically as his grin deepened, accompanied with an amused roll of his eyes. "I can see why Krystal is so into you."

"You can either choose to stand there and criticize, or you can grab that torch and help. One of those will not end well for you." Six's tone made it quite obvious which would be the unwise decision.

"And grumpy..." The vulpine mumbled quietly under his breath.

Six activated the press, the hydraulic piston condensing the metal into a smaller, more robust size. "I also have excellent hearing."

"Of course you do." Fox grunted and rummaged around the table, finding the blowtorch behind a stack of identical steel sheets.

Retrieving the newly formed plug, Six set it down on the table and motioned for Fox to get to work. "What brings you down here? I've seldom seen you around this place."

 

He was indeed curious. Fox rarely, if ever, stepped foot down here, this being a location he did not often have need of. So this was a significant change in the routine he had observed in the vulpine.

"Well..." Fox began, flicking the torch on and lowering the nozzle to the cylindrical bolt of armor, bathing it white hot flames. "I had some more stuff to talk about."

"Is it... about that?" Six vaguely alluded to their previous discussion.

"No. No." Fox shook his head in dismissal. "Whole different thing, actually something I should have done a while ago."

"That's enough." Six tapped the tod's shoulder and he shut off the blowtorch, allowing the spartan to grab the glowing hot tube of iron in a pair of tongs and place it onto a different table, a hammer sitting on the solid iron slab. "Then what is this about?"

 

"Remember back when you first joined, when I said you'd get a share of the profits?"

"I remember telling you I didn't need money." The spartan answered openly, grabbing the hammer and slinging it down on the heated steel with a resonating bang.

"That you did." Fox agreed with a nod. "However... I think you do."

Six pounded on the unfortunate piece of steel for several moments without responding. When he did, the alloy had assumed a more narrow shape. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the vulpine with a pair of inquisitive crimson eyes "Really? What for?"

"There are a lot of things in life that can't be bought with violence."

The spartan shrugged.

"I haven't encountered a situation where that was true." All his life, he had used violence as currency, his blood and that of his enemies was the denomination upon which his entire existence had been based upon. Everything was earned through the application of force, whether for the control of a planet or the next hill over. He had no need for money, for what would he buy? His wants were not of the same ilk as the rest of the team's. Extravagancy was anathema to him, a waste of crucial resources. Give him the means to fight. That was all he needed.

Or... at least had been all he needed.

Since then things had changed. He, had changed. And while he still did not see the need for wealth, he understood that in certain instances, things like money had their uses.

Fox frowned and advanced on the spartan, firmly grabbing his arm. "What happens when you want to settle down, when you've had enough, when you decide you've had your fill of death? And if not, what happens when there's no war left to fight?"

Six hardly reacted to the vulpine's touch, Fox's words giving him a noticeable cause for thought.

"For me, Fox, there has always been a war to fight. There has always been death. War and death are two companions I've yet to break away from. They are all I have ever known, all I have to call my own."

"Maybe once." Fox retorted, determination replacing the frown he once carried. "But not anymore, you have us. And more importantly, you have Krystal."

Six slid the replacement rod of titanium into the hole in his breastplate, a frown upon his lips.

What Fox spoke was true, he had Krystal. She had been the one to place him on this bewildering path of transformation, the one to make him reconsider many things he had once thought to be out of his reach. If he truly wanted to be the changed man he needed to be for her, he had to learn that not everything was so cut and dry as he had once been led to believe. Since long before he had been born, warriors had found equilibrium between their profession and their personal lives.

Now he had to do much the same thing.

But did he have the inner strength to embrace that change?

He did not know. But he would try, for her if not for himself.

The spartan sighed and stepped away from his armor to face his vulpine companion. "Perhaps your words hold a grain of sense to them. Very well... what does this entail?"

 

Fox grinned broadly, pleased at his small achievement, another wall successfully broken down. "For you? Nothing. I uh... actually set everything up last time we were on Corneria. All you have to do is memorize the finer details."

"So you had already put the effort in... before you had my answer?" Six gazed down at the vulpine, lips twisted into a faintly amused smirk

"Yeah, wasn't all that tough, just a couple hours I wasn't going to miss anyways." In all honesty it had taken him almost a full day to iron out the legal processes for the spartan. An understandably unique situation required an understandably suitable length of time. But he did not want to burden Six with all the details. It was a small favor, and the least he could do to repay the friend that had done so much for him and the team.

The vulpine could ask for no better comrade to have at his side.

"Is that so...?" The spartan's smirk persisted. "In that case, I suppose you have my gratitude once more." It seemed as if the vulpine was always looking out for him in the fields of life he had little understanding for. And admittedly, he could use the help. Normalcy was not exactly his strong suit, though he was doing his best to change that.

"Of course, I was glad to help."

Six nodded to himself thoughtfully, a thin smile pursing his lips. 'You always are.'

 

He had been right to put his faith in Fox all those months ago.

The spartan packed the bonding proxy around the newly mended hole in the armor. Once it had set, the suit should be relatively good as new, or at least as good as he could make it. While he waited for the agent to solidify, Fox filled him in on the details he needed to know about his recently acquired assets.

He had never been familiar with the economic system of the UNSC, so he was not certain if this one was remotely the same. But it was easy to understand, and from what he gathered, remarkably efficient.

Memorization of important details came as second nature to him, so all the smaller particulars such as passwords and personal security codes were simple. With those, Fox had also given him a tool for making purchases, a little plastic card. Apparently that was all he needed to carry with him, it having access to the credits (as the local currency was called), that the bank held for him.

The spartan did not know the worth of these credits, but after seeing the amount he now possessed, even he could tell what he had, was no paltry sum.

Fox had smiled at his surprise. "You did a lot of good work Six, and good work tends to be rewarded in my crew."

Six was new to all this, and Fox had been kind enough to suggest a few things he might want to consider, clothes being one of the more important focuses. And Six tended to agree. His MJOLNIR was invaluable to him, but not something he necessarily wanted or needed to wear regularly. It could be inconvenient, and at times, excessive. But most importantly, needless use of the powered battlesuit could dull his natural senses and instill in him a false sense of invulnerability, something that had already nearly cost him his life.

Like any weapon, it demanded a certain degree of respect and blasé usage was both unnecessary and demeaning. Now that he was no longer on a permanent war footing, it did not need to be either.

"Did ya hear me, Six?"

"What?" He turned back to Fox, having briefly forgotten about him while deep in thought.

"I said that we're going to be leaving the ship soon. I gave the team a few weeks of extended leave so we're heading back to the villa in a few hours. You coming?" The vulpine tilted his muzzle towards the doors, already moving towards them.

"Yes of course." Six nodded, glancing back to his suit. The bonding agent needed time to do its work, a few days at the most to truly set. It was a simple, yet oxymoronically complicated process. And his armor would be effectively unusable during that time. So he would have to leave it behind anyways, something that did not bother him as much as it might have a month or so ago. He had to learn to separate himself, both from the armor and what it represented. While he did need it, he did not need rely on it.

The spartan pulled the TACPAD off the armor and fastened it to his wrist. Some parts of it though, he did need.

"I'm coming."

 

 

*****

 

 

Miyu stepped out of the packed hover car and turned to watch the rest of the team climb out. Once Krystal's slender blue figure emerged, the feline could feel a grimace angrily tugging at her muzzle. There was still some bad blood between them after their chat, though it was somewhat one sided. The vixen seemed to refuse to fight back, no matter how hostile Miyu was to her.

Though now, a week later, she was finding it harder and harder to stay mad. They had been friends long before Six came into their lives, and the cat was finding it more difficult to blame her for what was essentially the spartan's choice.

And she was starting to miss their conversations.

She had done her best to avoid Six over the past few days, not knowing if she might scream at him, or try to win his affection. And she wasn't sure if the spartan had even noticed the change in interaction between the two women, the human usually busy off doing something or other to keep himself occupied, rendering him oblivious to the frigid stalemate.

At first he had seemed bewildered at having all this open time to deal with. But he soon learned to find a meaningful use for it, to no ones' real surprise. He also learned what to do with the money he had earned. Now the spartan had a few side projects to show for it.

Miyu didn't know when he became a part time carpenter and electrician, but the partially built cabin in the forest led her to believe he had gotten those skills somewhere. And though she was still upset, she was begrudging to admit, she was impressed. He had only started working on it the other day and already the foundation and outlining for the walls were set.

She didn't know what he intended with the structure or why he was building it, but he seemed most content when he was working on something. That thing took up a large portion of his time and he had not once taken a trip into the city since they arrived. The only other thing he put his full attention into was Krystal, the vixen often going down there to talk and watch him work. And when she returned she always looked happier than when she had left.

Miyu's frown followed the vixen as she trailed the rest of the team inside their home.

Why did she have what the feline wanted? At what point had she found a way into the spartan's heart? By now most of her anger had turned into melancholy. Miyu just wanted what Krystal had, someone to care about her as more than a teammate and friend. She had intended Six to be that someone, wanted him to be so over any other male she had met in her life. His dark and penetrating aura drew her helplessly towards him, like a moth to a flame. And she could not escape the flickering fire of her desire.

Entering the villa, she watched jealously as the vixen swiftly vanished into the voluminous house with a flick of her bushy tail, no doubt to reunite with the spartan. She refused to be away from him for long, today being the most they had been apart, spending a few hours to pick up the villa's monthly supply of groceries. Otherwise, she followed him practically everywhere. They even slept in the same room now.

Miyu did her best not to think about that.

With a sigh, the cat jostled the bags of food she carried and headed towards the kitchen.

 

*****

 

"Krystal." Six calmly greeted the ecstatic vixen that had seemed to materialize out of the blue and tackle him with one of her increasingly familiar hugs. He had come to expect something like this every time they remained separated for an extended period of time.

It was... nice.

The vixen offered no verbal response other than the low purr resonating within her chest as she clung to him tightly, sharp claws pricking against his skin, a new tactile sensation that came with the lack of armor he was typically encased in.

The clothing he had custom ordered was not unfamiliar to him. He had given the manufactures a detailed description of the standard template for UNSC battle dress uniforms, though he had replaced the human military's logo with that of Starfox. The matte black BDUs suited him perfectly, functional while protective, he having had paid extra for energy resistant fibers. After all, no matter where one was, one needed to be careful in this day and age.

But his mind was rambling; something more important needed his attention.

The spartan looked down to the vixen, a rueful shake to his head. He did admit that her emotional ways were quite endearing in their own singular way, though they had taken a great deal of getting used to. He was not accustomed to such a high degree of affection directed towards him. But he was starting to find it rather pleasant.

In the days they had spent together here, he had soon learned that she was a very... impassioned woman. Unlike him, she had little difficulty expressing herself, both physically and emotionally, those often going hand-in-hand, (or rather paw-in-paw he supposed. He had never really come to grips with her physiological difference, though it had never really been a point of concern for him.) It was an odd contrast in comparison to his reclusive and introspective ways, one he had not come to grasp with.

Six lowered a hand to her back, gently kneading the loose blue fur, just the way he had learned she liked it, and watched in amusement as her tail lazily weaved back and forth to the content beat of her heart.

At least she was an easy person to appease.

He regarded the flicking tail in fascination. The spartan doubted he would ever get used to the sight.

"How did it go?" He inquired, referring to the outing for supplies she had journeyed out on. The spartan had been, and still was, hopelessly inept when it came to the more mundane matters of their relationship. But some quick unobtrusive reconnaissance and Intel gathering with the help of Fox, he had managed to learn some helpful information. It seemed females liked for their confidantes to show interest in their activities no matter how commonplace they might appear. And while Six did not feel the true need to catch the details of what was essentially a "milk run", if it made her happy that he appeared so inclined, he would endure that rather banal conversation.

However, it appeared luck was on his side this day, for the first time in a long time he might add.

"Oh, I won't bore you with the details." Krystal slowly pulled away from their embrace, keeping a paw firmly wrapped around his hand.

Six looked up from her cerulean smile, watching as the rest of the team entered the den. He felt somewhat uncomfortable at her warm display, or rather the public nature of it. The spartan could handle most of what she dished out, but found it more difficult to do so when other eyes were present. He was a very introspective man. It took no genius to see this. And these open acts of love (as he assumed them to be), were not easy for him to cope with. But he also knew of the vixen's stubbornness, and if he tried to put distance between her and him, she would only retaliate with twice as much force.

This option was much easier to endure.

It was now team knowledge that something existed between him and Krystal, though he had yet to see any indicator that they knew or cared, other than the odd change in Miyu. The feline had become even more reclusive then he had once been, shortly after it became known. He knew not the reason why, but he was debating on whether or not to find out.

He might not enjoy finding the answer.

"Hey Six, how'd you like having the place to yourself?" Falco inquired as he made a line right past the spartan and plopped down on the couch, the avian rummaging around in the cushions for the TV's remote.

"It was... quite."

 

With the privacy, he had been able to sift through a majority of his old combat logs, a contemplative and somewhat painful experience traveling down memory lane. It was uncanny; to see how he had changed from the man he had been to the one he was now. He had transformed significantly in an insignificantly minor amount of time; his interactions were no longer so terse and detached. And there was an evident increase of vibrancy in his tone that had been absent, conceivably for his entire life.

It had likewise been... difficult, to watch his old team, the culmination of their lives and their deaths, recorded on a tiny data wafer no larger than a 7.62 mm round. They would have never been able to imagine what happened to their surviving member.

So far, in the last seven days of their leave, he had combed through the instant he had climbed out of the warthog, and every waking moment afterwards until the fall of New Alexandria. He had only stopped a few minutes ago when he heard the aircar approach the villa, and moments after Kat met her end at the behest of a sangheili sniper. His biggest regret at that moment, of all the ones he carried with him through his life, had been his inability to avenge her death. Even now it burned at him, his failure as a spartan, as a teammate.

He could scarcely believe how long it had been since the fall of Reach. What seemed to have transpired only weeks ago, was in actuality months, three and change to be precise. He and time had always had an odd association. During his prior career as a soldier under compulsory service for the UNSC, its flow had been obscured, days, months, and even years had blended together in a blurred haze of perpetual warfare. And as he looked back, Six found it remarkable that he had survived for as long as he had against such desperate odds, unlike so many of his unfortunate brethren.

Here however, every moment was to him, pristine in its clarity. He could recall nearly every aspect of every second he had experienced since his arrival.

And it only reminded him of the disparate nature of his past. If he had never come here, if the bomb had worked as originally envisioned, he would be long dead. And this unique opportunity given to him would be lost. He would have never met Fox, never joined the team... never found Krystal.

All his life, Six had not once considered himself a lucky man. Since the day his homeworld fell he had no cause to believe such a thing as luck could exist. And maybe it did not. Perhaps there was more to his being here than mere chance. It might just be fate itself that brought him to this place.

This life he now lived provided him so much more than he could have ever hoped to have back in his old world. But such catered itself as a double edged sword.

Now he had far more to lose, so much so that the very thought of what was at stake was enough to instill in him an unusual level of anxiety he had never felt before. His concerns were no longer centered solely on himself, but now stretched over a small group of individuals that had come to mean a great deal to him, as close if not closer than Noble. And his worries could only stretch so far before they snapped under the strain. He had never cared so much about a group of people before. And he did not know how to handle a once thought to be completely unbelievable situation.

It had taken him some time to realize the depth of his attachment to Starfox. Having given this topic much thought in recent days. It was they, or rather more so one special soul amongst them, which kept him securely set on this path of healing.

If he were to lose her or any one of them...

There existed within his core, an unfathomable darkness, one they remained purposefully oblivious to by his will, and would remain so unawares for as long as he could keep it so sequestered deep inside him. But he feared that if something were to happen to Krystal or the team, he would no longer be able to keep it contained.

He had learned a great deal under the tutelage of the Office of naval Intelligence, how to utterly and fully shatter the hearts and minds of men. Fear was perhaps the greatest tool in humanity's arsenal. And he had become masterfully adept and precipitating the dispersal of terror and dismay amongst the enemies of his benefactors. A whisper of his alias was enough to destroy the resolve of most insurrectionist forces and their sympathizers. Even the Covenant knew some measure of his personal, dreaded reputation.

There was a reason an ONI officer had labeled him as their personal Grim Reaper, why the office itself designated him more as a hyper-lethal vector rather than a living being. They had molded him into the instrument of their will, led him to commit countless unspeakable acts in their names. And he would never forget what he had done, the suffering he was responsible for.

The Covenant had a distinctive name for spartans... demons.

They had no idea how accurate that title was.

Six had no desire to become that craven beast again.

The spartan felt a slight pressure on his hand and looked to his left. Krystal returned his gaze, a worried frown on her muzzle.

Sometimes he forgot how well she could read him. It was difficult to hide ones thoughts from a telepath. Thankfully his exceptional mastery over his emotions gave him some room to keep his secrets. He cared for Krystal, but his mind was his one and only true sanctuary. Not even she had the privilege to access its depths, both to safeguard his privacy... and protect her,

If she was ever able to peer inside, he feared what she might find, how it might alter her view of him.

Six smiled and shook his head, a silent signal that he was alright. She did not need to be weighed down by unpleasant thoughts of his past and future. They were his and his alone to bear. He would do his best to ensure that part of him would never again see the light of day, locking it away in the depthless dark where it belonged.

However, her frown did not fade. The vixen's abilities, or more perhaps more her female intuition, told her such was not the case. But it was something they could talk about later, in private. 

All of this passed over Falco's head as the avian shrugged. Not soon afterwards he gave a short cry of triumph as he found what he had been looking for. "There you are you little bugger." He grumbled in victory and enclosed his feathery grip around the rectangular electronic device. One, two, three tugs and he yanked it out from the couch's cushioned grasp.

"Now then, let's see what's making the news today." He angled the remote and turned on the television, and was instantly given something worth watching.

"....marks the second day of the tenuous ceasefire accord between The U.L.R and the Venomian Empire."

"U.L.R?" Six questioned Krystal under his breath.

"United Lylatian Republics, it's our government." She replied, equally hushed. The vixen grinned and prodded him with an elbow. "I thought you would have known that by now."

"Pardon my horrid ineptitude. I am no native to this system." Six offered her nothing but a droll roll of his eyes.

Krystal giggled and nudged him harder, the spartan hardly noticing it. "Are you being snarky with me, Six?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." The spartan muttered dryly.

Their little dialogue had gone unnoticed by the others, who were otherwise occupied by the news broadcasted on the TV.

"Well this looks interesting." Fox motioned towards Falco. "Turn it up."

The avian did as ordered and the rest of the team went silent as their attention was consumed by the seventy inch screen and its live feed of the capital building. Just outside the heavily guarded gates, a familiar leonine reporter stood, giving the news.

"The entire system waits in hushed trepidation for the outcome of these tense negotiations, hoping that this war just might end sooner than the last. I've been told that representatives of the venomian Empire have arrived within the city sometime earlier today and are currently in diplomatic talks. But as of this moment, no word had come from the Senate or the Prime Minister and we can only hope that when information is finally released, it will be what we are all wishing for."

"I can't believe we're ending it like this." Falco muttered, gesturing angrily at the screen. "I mean we had their collective asses on the ropes! I say we should have launched an attack on Venom and kicked down their doors, let them see how it's like to be invaded!"

Six and Fox shared a knowing glance.

They knew that option had been denied to them the moment that alien creature appeared over Fortuna's skies. While they could have done exactly what the avian seemed so sore at losing the opportunity to do. That would have resulted in an expenditure of life and military resources that they quite possibly could not afford to lose.

At present, the CDF's fleets were in misguided tatters and the army, cripplingly depleted. The entire system itself was in disarray in the wake of the short, but costly war. They needed time to recover and prepare for the possibility of an outer-system threat. Six, Fox, and Pepper had spent a great deal of time discussing the gravity of their immediate situation in the days after they returned.

The canine general had been reluctant to a certain degree with the apparent drastic actions the spartan suggested. But he was not so much a fool not to see their necessity. Soon, the changes would be enacted. Pepper had already called for the reserves to be mobilized and the surviving shipyards throughout the system were tirelessly concentrating their efforts on restoring the battered fleet to its former power.

The Prime Minister herself had been informed of the situation, seeing as it very well might be both a military and civilian matter. It had been the spartan's first time meeting the Lylatian head-of-state, but his intuition told him Minister Daala was good for the job. After a more detailed explanation on his existence, the female cheetah had supported the spartan's idea for building more civilian shelters and was ready to soon start work on the civilian safety concerns, masking it as a revitalization of public security and awareness.

Everything was falling in place. All that was left was to see if their efforts would be enough to stop these aparoids if they did indeed intend to attack. Time was the only constraint.

Would they have enough of it?


	20. Recreation Part 2

Chapter 18: Recreation Part 2

 

The team had always found his obsession with books to be an object of fascination within their ranks, curious as to why the old hare would prefer the outdated and dusty old tomes to the bright pixelated screens now so popular with modern day cornerian culture. To that, Peppy only gave a sad shake of his muzzle.

Krystal was his only ally in this struggle. From what she had told him of her homeworld before its destruction, her society had a preference for nature rather than technology. While possessing the means to surpass their current level, they had been content with what they had. And in that instance they were so unlike the rest of the known universe and Peppy mourned their passing.

But the others, they did not understand the irreplaceable feeling of having a volume between their paws, the sound a page made as you moved on to the next passage, a distinct crinkle of inked paper one could not forget. They did not appreciate the intimacy of a novel, something that a cold, unfeeling machine like those electronic datapads could never give. 

Peppy supposed it was entirely possible that he was just firmly rooted in the old ways. Civilization changed to fit the times, and maybe he was just behind them. Regardless, it mattered not to him; he would not alter his preferences.

The others might laugh at his outdated habits, but he was far too old and stubborn to change.

Chuckling softly to himself, the hare set down the book he had been in the midst of perusing and chanced a glance at his surroundings. It was not uncommon for him to become so engrossed in his treasured pastime that the outside world was often forgotten and often he had to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. Before he had become absorbed with his novel, the team had been watching the news.

He was not sure what to think about the upcoming ceasefire. Most of his younger and older years had been wasted fighting Venom. His dedication to his job had cost him the life of his wife and the love of his daughter. Peppy would be lying if he were to say he wholly supported the idea of peace. In fact, he rather despised it. For once, he very much agreed with Falco's suggestions.

He would have liked to lead the assault against Venom himself if he could. The hare imagined there would be no shortage of contestants willing to bid for that roll. But such was not meant to be. They had other concerns that weighed heavier than such disreputable sentiments as revenge and retribution.

But if there was anyone who deserved to have the opportunity if it so existed, it was the cerulean vixen currently reclining on the couch. She had more cause then most if not all, to hate the venomians. They had taken everything she had ever known and loved, destroyed the very planet she called home.

If there was any who earned the right of reprisal, it was Krystal.

Peppy remembered his first meeting with the vixen. She had been a rather cold and imperious woman, not all that unexpected considering what she had lost. It had taken her some time to warm up to the team, especially Falco.

He supposed that in that instance, she and Six were quite alike. Though while she had changed greatly since then, the spartan remained for the most part, the same grim and withdrawn individual Peppy had first encountered many months ago and was unlikely to ever change. His scars ran far deeper than his vixen companion, perhaps, Peppy conjectured, too deep.

Krystal had talked with him many times since the first of her days with Starfox, the hare smoothing out many of her issues and helping her integrate into a world not at all like her own. In that time the vixen had become somewhat of an adopted daughter in his eyes, one he hoped not to fail as he had with his own flesh and blood.

However, since Six had begrudgingly made himself a member, their talks had slowly petered off. Either by preference or design, the spartan had become her confidant, replacing the wizened hare. And while Peppy was jealous to a certain degree that Six was essentially taking a daughter from him, he realized that it was for the best.

She was likely to find more common ground in the human supersoldier, as odd as that was to consider.

Then of course, there was the aparoids to worry about, beings he had hoped never to hear of again. He still had nightmares of his encounter with those monsters. For that was what they truly were, such a race like that could never be considered otherwise. Though he had told Fox of them, the young vulpine could not hope to understand what they truly would face if the aparoids did indeed attack. Six was the only one that might be able to fully grasp what was at hand, and judging from the increased focus on Krystal, the spartan was completely aware. Even he knew what might be lost. And it seemed that's what was needed to force a change in him.

It was just unfortunate that the possibility of defeat was the concluding catalyst to spur the spartan's decision.

At that moment he missed James more than ever. They had been close, like brothers. And he mourned his passing almost as much as the vulpine's son. Fox lost a father and Peppy lost a very dear and old friend. If James was still alive, the future would have appeared less bleak.

Yet, he could see much of his old companion reflected in Six. They bore the same dominating personality. The spartan carried that selfsame effortless intensity, that unbreakable determination and fierceness of will he had only ever witnessed in his dearly departed friend. Both were men one could certainly follow, men whose mere presence reinforced the strength of spirit in those around them. However, Six did not care for leading as James had. The spartan had the means and ability to be a great leader of men, yet chose not to.

He was a mythic individual in his own right, a legend that preferred anonomy, a silent hero.

It was almost poetic in a way, though it amused Peppy greatly to speculate such a thought had never crossed the spartan's mind.

Brooding as he was, Peppy hardly noticed Krystal's approach. The vixen had felt the weight of the hare's thoughts and was curious as to what it might be that occupied him so much that he would forget the book resting idly in his paws.

"Krystal my dear, how are you?"

Peppy greeted her with the softheartedness he always used when talking with her, the very same tone he took with his daughter long before she cut ties with him.

The vixen smiled kindly downwards at the sitting hare. "Perhaps I should be asking you that, Peppy. What weighs on your heart so?"

He was unsurprised that the empathetic fox easily narrowed in on his concerns.

"Isn't an old hare entitled to his secrets?" He asked with a mirthful chuckle.

"Not when that old hare is a longtime and most dear friend. Tell me Peppy. What is it that has you so worried?" Krystal easily slipped into the chair across from him and sedately folded her arms in her lap, giving him her full attention.

Faced with a pair of such attentive and piercing emerald eyes, he was forced to relent, though he was able to mask his true concerns.

When one lived with a woman that could quite literally read your thoughts if she so desired, one had to learn to adapt.

He hoped to keep her away from the truth for as long as was possible, as guilty as it made him feel. He would rather see her oblivious and content, then aware and terrified. And hopefully, if luck permitted, the aparoids would never come.

Peppy decided to pursue a line of questioning that might distract her from her probing. "To be perfectly honest, I have been curious. How are things between you and Six? If I may be so forward, it would seem they are going quite well." Indeed, compared to a few weeks ago, things were far better than they had been.

Perhaps the spartan had taken his advice.

With that question, Krystal adopted a joyful grin and let loose with a dreamy sigh as she leaned back into her chair, reminiscing on the pleasantness of the past week. "It has been absolutely wonderful."

"Really?" He was surprised to hear that. With the spartan's rather detached disposition, he had expected a little less than the level of happiness she was exhibiting. Not that it bothered him in the slightest, rather he was happy for her to hear that. After all she had been through, indeed after all Six had been through, they both deserved to be happy.

The vixen brought a paw up to the table and idly scratched at the wood, bright green eyes turning to regard the oaken slab intently. "Well, there was and still are some... difficulties. But I know he is giving it his best." Krystal was aware of how hard it was for him, to try and change for her. And she was ever thankful that he cared enough about her to endure what must be very challenging alterations.

Even now, after a week in their established relationship, Six was still having a hard time adjusting to living in the same space as another person, a female no less. They both shared more than their fair share of awkward moments of silence, yet the times they spent together far outweighed those increasingly infrequent occasions.

She was also starting to notice something she had not before, something... distressing. And it worried her to no end.

"And to be honest... he has me concerned." She admitted with a deep set frown.

"What is the matter?" Peppy inquired.

"It is nothing overt." She claimed slowly, her jet black claw tracing the grooves in the etched lumber of the auburn tabletop. "But he has this little... fits, when he sleeps."

She had first noticed them a few days ago, when he had returned from his little project he had started at her sanctuary. When she asked, he had offered no immediate explanation on why he had suddenly decided to take up his development. Other than it would have a purpose. But it was afterwards when they had gone to bed that she first saw it.

"Fits?" Peppy repeated, finding the rather broad sweeping term to be somewhat ominous.

She nodded firmly. "In my sleep, I felt something. I could not rightly describe the feeling, just that it was... wrong." Krystal shuddered. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, a crushing sense of utter despair, guilt and a legion of other senses, all indescribable and chaotically jumbled together. So powerful it was, that it had jarred her from her slumber. And upon waking, she felt the trembling of the man sleeping beside her.

"He was... s-shaking." She stammered quietly, her tone raising several octaves as she recalled the unforgettable event. Never before had she seen Six like that, it being such a polar opposite from the emotionally hardened spartan. But he had been trembling, like a child suffering some dreadful nightmare. 

To be true to herself, it had frightened her.

"I tried to wake him up... but I couldn't. So I just held on to him, as he shook and whimpered." The vixen's throat threatened to clench shut, clogged by her upwelling of emotion. She had only ever felt so helpless once before, when she watched her homeworld burn. It was a terrible feeling, powerlessness, knowing that there was nothing you could do for the ones you cared about.

Sniffling, she wiped a paw across her muzzle and composed herself, resetting her posture to more reflect the calm and controlled aura she commonly projected. "Eventually he stopped and woke up a few minutes later, acting as if it had never transpired. At first I thought I had imagined the whole thing. But it was just wishful thinking. It happened again the next night, and the night after that."

A tinge of red rimming her eyes, she considered Peppy with a sudden ferocity, hinted with desperation. "What do I do? I... I can't bear to see him like that, even if he is unaware." It pained the vixen to see her spartan, the one she loved, in such distress.

Peppy listened to her story with a focused frown and ponderous paw set across his chin. What she spoke of was indeed strange, but perhaps not all that unexpected and not at all unprecedented. Six had been subject to much atrocity in his life, and while his conscious mind might have come to grips with the horror, his unconscious awareness certainly had not. If he could say anything with a shred of confidence, it would be that Six suffered from something far more serious than long-lasting post-traumatic stress. It was quite possible that his inner, deeper seeded fears bled through his subconscious and plagued his slumbering mind. And the terrors might be so great that he could not recall them upon waking.

Truly there was no escape or reprieve for Six. His problems might be forever imprinted into his soul. He would never have a normal life, but perhaps he could have one that was close. And Peppy was starting to believe that Krystal was the only one that could help him achieve that.

The hare eyed the distraught vixen, trying to figure out whether this was information to give her. As it was he doubted even her abilities and affection for the spartan could be of any help to him at the moment, even with this knowledge. This was a problem he would have to puzzle out on his own. Any attempt on her part might actually make it worse, forcing him to come to grips with the darkness within his soul. And it just might be the thing to break him.

So he told her what it was she could do. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" She repeated, nonplussed. The vixen slumped back into her chair with a defeated cast to her muzzle. No doubt the fox's tail was just as limp as her sagged shoulders.

"I wish I could be of more help. But in all likelihood this is something Six has to work out for himself, whether he is aware of it or not. Any outside interference could potentially make it worse."

She huffed in disbelief. "Outside interference? I'm his... partner." She paused, trying to find an apt title for what exactly she was to him. The moniker of girlfriend did not seem to fit right in her mouth. It lacked the inherent meaning that existed between the two of them. 

Peppy was resolute in his response. "As that may be, there are some things one must deal with alone. And I fear this instance may be the case to prove that point. If you wish to help, just be there to support him through his trials. His life has not been an easy one, and I fear that has not changed since his arrival. In fact, it might be even more of a challenge. Six is facing an entirely brand-new school of thought, the likes of which he has never felt before, not at one point in his entire life. And he likely has no understanding of it. This will require time for him to come to terms with this."

Krystal nodded hesitantly, accepting the wise hare's words of wisdom. She knew to trust him on this. He had given her much advice before, all of it helpful. So if this was truly what he thought, she would listen. "All right Peppy, I'll do as you say."

"Good." He grinned. There was hope for them both, and as long as they weathered the coming storm together, they would triumph. "Is that all that plagues your thoughts?"

At that inquiry, the vixen gave a bashful grin. "Well... not quite. There is one other... small issue."

Peppy sighed, rubbing his brow.

It seemed this talk was far from over.

 

*****

 

With an anticipatory smirk, Six eyed the hefty metal crate sitting on the driveway of the villa, the delivery truck having just disappeared around the bend. This had been one of the items he had been looking forward to, and would not have been possible without some assistance from the General.

The spartan found that he respected Pepper. His no-nonsense attitude and yet somewhat amiable nature reminded him of Lord Hood. A man he had never met in person yet held a deep reverence for.

Leaning down, Six lifted the heavy crate and turned to enter the villa through the main doors traversing the hallways till he arrived at the small weapons storage space located in the far back of the enormous house.

Entering, he was not at all surprised to find Falco inside, overseeing maintenance on his assault blaster. The avian took a great deal of care into his weapon and Six imagined Emile and Falco would have hit it off quite well, either that or they would have killed each other.

The thought brought a grin to his face.

"What are you smiling at?" Falco demanded, unused to seeing the spartan exhibit any kind of emotion other than anger or antipathy.

"Nothing." He responded, dropping the container to the ground, the heft to it sending a tremor through the unadorned concrete.

"Really? Doesn't sound like it." Falco mused, deciding that whatever the spartan was doing held more merit then his work, the avian approached. "What is it you got in there?"

"A welcomed gift from the General." Six explained cryptically as he grabbed the edge of the crate and used his augmented strength to pry open the top. With a creak of warping metal, he peeled the steel away and looked inside, his grin widening to an unusual level. That is to say it was nearly a normal one.

Curious as to what at last brought a noticeable smile to the otherwise dower spartan's visage, Falco peered over the big man's shoulder. And his eyes widened as he took in the sight of the large object cradled inside. "Is that...?"

Six nodded, reaching inside and extracted the hulking weapon from its confines. "The Multi-barreled Rotary Laser Assault Weapon System. Or MR. LAW as I believe you called it." The spartan hefted the heavy assault gun, getting a feel for it. He was admittedly impressed with this particular Lylatian weapon system. Its killing potential was nothing to scoff at. And it would always be handy to have something like it in reserve for his personal arsenal, a suitable device for both suppression and directed area annihilation.

The spartan ran a reverent hand across the motionless barrels, admiring the glossy black finish.

To him, weapons were like fine wine, or so he believed the saying went. And he could tell a beautifully crafted work from a shoddy construction. And this definitely qualified as one of the superior models. The blaster cannon also brought thoughts of Jorge, one of the very few individuals he had considered to be a friend. He hoped to honor the fallen spartan's memory with this, given the chance. 

Falco too admired the impressive weapon, though he noticed something different than the one Krystal possessed. "This looks bigger." He voiced in amazement. The gun was nearly twice the size of hers.

Six agreed simply. "That it is." Given his size and enhancements, he could field a weapon of larger proportions. 

"I'm pretty sure that'll make anyone down range shit their pants, right before it blows them to kingdom come." He scoffed. "Shit, you could punch a hole through a battleship with that thing."

"Indeed." Six chuckled, setting the massive cannon down on a table with a weighty thump.

"Can I?" Falco approached.

The spartan nodded and gestured for the avian to continue.

Smirking himself, Falco approached the colossal weapon and wrapped his feathered hands around the barrel and grip, trying to lift it up. But all he did succeed in was nearly throwing out his back. Groaning, the bird stumbled backwards. "Damn thing is heavier than Fay's mother."

At that Six reached down and hoisted the heavyweight firearm in a single hand.

"Oh ha ha." Falco muttered, rolling his eyes.

Having proven his superiority, Six set it down.

For some reason he found teasing the avian to be a source of amusement, a pastime that would not have been so humorous before.

"You know, you can be jerk, Six."

He chuckled one last time. "So I've been told."

 

*****

 

"I want you to meet him." Fox urged as he and Fara crossed a bustling street in the heart of Corneria Center.

"Who, this spartan guy?" She asked, turning her head back to Fox as they walked.

"He's not a spartan guy, his name is Six." Fox affirmed emphatically.

The fennec vixen raised her paws mock defensively as they continued down their route. "Right, my bad. So you want me to meet this Six character?"

"Yes!" Fox declared in exasperation, having been trying for the past hour to get his message across. "He's a good friend and I want you to meet him."

"You know, from the way you've talked about this guy recently, I can't help but feel some measure of hero worship coming from you." She eyed him closely. As of recent days, all she had heard from Fox in regards to this Six, was how great he was. The woman was starting to think her fiancé had found an idle to replace his father. From the way she spoke about him, she expected the man to be some sort of hero.

"This isn't some form of hero worship, which is why I want you to come to the villa and meet him for yourself. That's the only way you can properly understand."

Fox was having a difficult time getting his point across to Fara. Six was a hard man to explain, with few words to accurately identify him, even those being hard to correctly portray the human supersoldier. He wanted both her and the spartan to get used to each other. Both were significant figures in his life, one as his soon to be wife, and the other as the admittedly peculiar older brother he never had.

Fara sighed. "You know my schedule, Fox. I don't have time to go to the outskirts of the city, even to meet your new teammate." Being a test pilot for Beltino gave her certain liberties for time, but it was also an on-call position, where she could expect to be summoned at a moment's notice, at any time of day or night. She couldn't afford to be too far away from the labs at any given point.

The vulpine frowned, trying to find a solution to the dilemma. Suddenly, an idea struck. "What about that bar, the one we always go to!" There was a small military bar a kilometer outside the base Fara worked at, they went there on occasion to celebrate a successful test flight. It would be the perfect place in Fox's eyes, with a small familiar crowd and close to her job in case she needed to go.

The vixen thought it over and shrugged. "I suppose that would work. And I also suppose I might be interested in the person that so impresses my little Foxy." She grinned at him cheekily, flashing her pearly white fangs.

He blushed, rubbing the back of his head as he grumbled. "Don't call me that in public."

"What?" She asked innocently, leaning in close to him, her muzzle hovering millimeters from his as she stared him down with smug, emerald eyes. "I thought you liked it when I called you that." She whispered huskily.

Instantly, Fox devolved into an incoherent babbling mess, the cream fur on his cheeks flaming up in embarrassment.

Fara giggled and licked his cheek, bouncing on her heals and swiveling away with a flare, tail batting him across the nose as she walked ahead and left the still gibbering vulpine in the dust. "You're always so easy to tease, Fox. That's why I love you. Come on," She urged. "You still owe me dinner, remember?"

In time, Fox's brain rebooted and he sighed, reluctantly trudging after her.

"Yes Dear."

 

*****

 

Miyu paced incessantly in her room, paws wearing a deep furrow in the carpet. She had spent days worrying over her problem, like a dog over an old bone. Now she couldn't take the brooding any more. She could wait no longer; she had to talk with Six, needed to talk to him. And to hell with the consequences!

Unless she forced herself to confront him, these feelings would just keep boiling away until they inevitably burst forth from inside her. But as much as she knew she had to do this, she was afraid of what might happen.

She loved Krystal like a sister, but she could not help but want what the vixen had, as selfish as that made her seem. Miyu could not escape from his inadvertent pull. She had to have him for herself. He had ruined all other men for her, for not one could ever hope to measure up to the spartan. He was strong, fierce, determined, and protective, and that spoke to some primal part of her that had lingered since her ancestors had traveled on four legs. She remembered that even as she had nearly bled out in Six's arms on Fortuna, she had never felt safer.

Even if he rebuffed her advances, she had to at least make the effort to try.

But first she needed a strategy that would separate him from Krystal. The vixen was never far from his side and she had to have enough time alone with him to speak her mind. The least she wanted was to get her thoughts in the open air, so that they would no longer be bottled up inside her.

As she pondered on what plan might work best, there was a knock at her door. Idle minded, she moved to answer the summons, still focused on how she could achieve her ends. Maybe she could catch him at night? She knew that he did not sleep often, and spent most of the dark hours somewhere in the villa. That would be the ideal moment to talk. The rest of the team would be sleeping and she would have the time she needed to clear the air, though it was only cloudy in her direction.

Sometimes Six could be insufferably blind to certain aspects of his surroundings.

Swiping her paw across the switch, she mused on the likelihood of such a scenario winding up in her favor. And the odds did not appear to be on her side on this one. 'So much for feline luck.' The cat scoffed and rolled her eyes.

The door slid open, and Miyu's progressively startled gaze sluggishly traveled up the muscled torso of the very man she had been pondering on, her eyes roaming over the crisp matte black uniform before settling on his rugged visage and crimson irises. In all her days of plotting, Miyu had not factored in the possibility that he would come to her first. Though an errant thought of hers appreciated how well he filled out that outfit.

For the first time in a long time, she was completely and utterly thunderstruck.

"Oh... uh hey Six, what can I do for you?" She asked, her question accompanied by a weak chuckle as she tapped on her door with a nervous paw. Uneasy as she was, her eyes had no trouble roving over his fit figure. All this time of inaction had not changed his physique at all, in fact, he looked more strapping then he had last time she had a decent look at him.

His busy work had indeed kept him busy.

The spartan eyed her closely, his expression infuriatingly blank. "Fox told me something rather interesting. And I wanted to discuss it with you."

 

"Oh yeah?" She feigned nonchalance, but barely held back an alarmed meow. Did Fox know about her dispute with Krystal? Had he told Six about it? Miyu felt her gut sink at the thought of that. It was rather difficult but she managed to keep the very real tone of rising panic out of her voice.

"Yes..." Six nodded. "He told me that you are an adept hand-to-hand specialist."

 

Hearing those words, she allowed herself a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed he was still unawares of their quarrel. "Oh that! Yeah well I got that from my mother. She taught me how to take care of myself. Turns out that helped at the academy, made me top of the class in asskicking." She chuckled, a combination of relief and an explosive release of tension that had been building in her gut.

He nodded once more, as if confirming something with himself for the final time. "Then I have a question for you."

 

"Alright then, shoot." She was curious about what might drag him all the way over to her room.

"Would you be willing to assist me with a rather... odd request?" He seemed to be genuinely perturbed about this line of inquiry, and she could not help but speculate what it was he had come to see her for. The spartan had largely left her alone the past seven days, almost dismissively so.

"Sure whatever you need, I'm your girl." She grinned confidently and leaned against the door.

Six decided to get to the point, he was not very skilled at subtly, at least when it came to speech. "It has been some time since I last had a partner to help with my fitness training. I would be indebted to you if you would be that person."

 

The last time he had someone to join in his exercises had been years before Reach. An instance like this was one of the very few times he had dismissed his personal policy of solitude. As successful as he was as a soldier, he could only ever judge his improvements when he had someone to compare himself to. Six was blindingly aware that no one in this place even remotely stacked up to the standards required to suitably meet his needs, but he had no real choice otherwise then to utilize the resources he had available.

And while he did not consider Miyu or the other members of Starfox to be resources - at least anymore - the truth was he needed one of them to help. Fox had shown great reluctance, Falco had blatantly opted out, and Fay was severely unqualified.

He had not even considered Slippy for the position.

Miyu was not sure how to respond. Even with his previous question, she had not expected those words to ever be uttered out of the spartan's mouth. The first thought that presented itself to her, was how in the hell she would be able to help. She could attest to his physical strength, had been present for several instances that showcased his mesmerizing power. And not to bag on herself, but what in the hell did he need of a cat like her? She wasn't even the strongest amongst the team, Fox still led in that category. True, she was exceedingly skilled in the art of close quarters combat, but she knew right off the hop that Six was leagues ahead of her in that race, in fact he had finished and ran a dozen extra laps before she had even started.

"I would love to help ya, Six. But to be frank, don't you think I might not be exactly... cut out for what you're asking of me?" She had been agonizing over a way to get close to him, but having her bones crushed to powder was not the method she desired.

Six smirked, forming a surprisingly quirky grin for such a serious face, and the feline felt her heart flutter for a brief moment. She could not believe all it took was the most trivial of smiles from him to send her emotions in a dive. The desire to run her paws across his firm chest was only prevented by her strong presence of mind; such an action would be both mortifyingly embarrassing and quite difficult to explain.

"You are quite possibly the only one on the team that could fill the roll. And there is no cause to fear injury. I am quite proficient at handling my strength." Regulating his enhanced abilities had become second nature to him, a thoughtless disposition. There was no possibility that he would hurt her by accident. It had been one of the first instincts ONI had tirelessly pounded into him. He was unequivocally precise in his application of the proper level of force.

There would be no error on his part.

Miyu felt some reassurance at his words, but was still not certain of his request. True, this was quite possibly the very chance she had been waiting for. And even training with him was something she would enjoy, but another worry nagged at the back of her mind, made her suspicious.

"Why didn't you go to Krystal? She is just as good, if not better than I am." The vixen was an excellent melee fighter, her people had instilled that into her and she had only improved in the days she had come here.

Six's concise grin faded, and he showed genuine discomfort now. "I could not ask this of her." He replied in a quiet, staid tone. Six very well knew that she could take care of herself, but the very thought of trying to intentionally harm her in any way was anathema to him, the very notion abhorrent. It went against every fiber of his being.

Miyu frowned, a wave of disappointment washing over her muzzle. "But you can ask me?" Clearly he did not value her as much as he did the vixen, and the feline found that stung worse than anything she had ever felt before, knowing that her existence was, at the most, a secondary consideration.

The spartan seemed to sense where her thoughts were leading her.

"I ask you this not because you mean any less to me, but that I know you are the right one to ask. This is not something she would particularly enjoy." He knew violence was not exactly her cup of tea. She was a tender soul, indeed which was one of the reasons he cared deeply for her. Such a person was exceptional where he came from. But that being so he needed someone that would understand his need for combat, and that person was Miyu. She was the one he had chosen for this, and not merely for her availability. He was aware that Miyu was one such individual that held a taste for battle, that while not completely so, did somewhat reflect his own. She could see that side of him and not be phased. That was what he needed. He respected that about her, she was rougher than many of the marines he had fought besides, and those men were some tough sons of bitches.

"I felt that you would be more amiable to my request." He smoothed the fabric of his BDU's, a rare sign of physical unease she had rarely if ever witnessed from him. "And admittedly, I have not been the most... pleasant of team members. I hope that with this, I could begin to correct that mistake." 

 

Miyu found a smile inescapably tugging at her snout at the spartan's honest words. That was one thing she appreciated about him, his honesty. He never lied, and he always admitted his faults. It was hard to find a man that was willing to do that. It was even rarer to find one that was willing to correct his blunders.

In the end her answer took little thought.

"Alright Six, you got me. I'll help ya, and I'll be glad to do so."

He ducked his head in appreciation and smiled down at her. "Thank you, Miyu."

 

"Partners?" The feline prompted questioningly, a brazen cat-like grin coalescing on her furry features as she held her paw out towards him.

The spartan did not hesitate. "Partners." He agreed with a deep chuckle, accepting her outstretched paw with a large hand. The unusual warmth to his naturally guarded expression, accompanied by the sincere laugh, widened her smile and brought an unfamiliar girlish flutter to her stomach.

Miyu decided she was finding this version of him to be even more appealing than the last.

 

*****

 

"So, where is Krystal anyways?" The feline questioned the large man she tagged behind. "I swear this just might be the first time you two have been apart for more than an hour since you shacked up."

Six grimaced, an action hidden from the cat's eyes. He was still trying to adapt to Krystal, so her query made for an unpleasant topic. "She said she needed to take care of something." He answered. Six knew not what it was that called her away, but he was, to some extent, thankful for the reprieve.

There was only so much feminine attention he could withstand before he became too jittery. There was guilt associated with this personal admittance, but he suspected that in time, he would become used to it, hoped he would get used to it. Miyu however, was different. She was not as... smothering, as Krystal could be. And he found that her presence was less of a drain on his endurance.

'Take care of something?' Miyu wondered what that 'something' was.

It did not sound particularly inviting.

"So where is it that we're going anyways?" After he had made his request, he had asked her to follow him, but had yet to give any details. So far they had left the house and journeyed out into the woods.

"I was hoping to get started as soon as possible. There should be a place we can practice without interruption; I found it during one of my early morning excursions." He spent most of his mornings trying to keep to his physical fitness regimens, starting off with a quick sprint through the woods around their compound, charting the land for fallback and defensive positions as he trained. During one of these excursions down a new route he landed upon the perfect spot. It was not too far from the Villa, but far enough that the chance of anyone stumbling upon it was remote, leaving them with little chance of interruption.

His purpose of seeking her out was twofold. Six was not completely oblivious as he assumed she expected him to be. Something was troubling her, and he suspected himself to be the source of her worries. He was often the epicenter of female concerns in the team, though it perplexed him endlessly on why this held to be self-evident. But this was the only means he knew to get to the heart of an issue, violence. If she had any resentment against him, this would offer her the perfect opportunity to vent.

Miyu let loose a puff of unsurprised breath. Knowing him, she should have expected something so immediate. Procrastination was a word she was beginning to suspect did not exist in the spartan's vocabulary.

Mid roll of her eyes, they arrived at an open expanse, roughly hedged in the proportions of a lazy man's circle, but more of an oval than anything else really. As they stepped onto the small patch of exposed land, she took the time to get a better feel for it seeing as they would probably be there for a while.

Light from the sun trickled through the leaves decorating the bristling canopy overhead giving the immediate area a decent level of lighting. In her observation, Miyu's eyes were drawn to the fringe of particularly colorful flowers beautifying the surprisingly pleasant scenery. It was actually quite a nice place, and the feline was honestly not surprised that he would have picked it to practice combat in. He didn't really seem to have the faculties to appreciate the finer aspects of nature.

She watched as the spartan crossed the short field of wild grass, boots she knew to be able to crush steel plating, traversing the vulnerable turf without leaving a single imprint in the viridian stalks of meadow underneath. It was nearly impossible for her to tell, but Six seemed to carry himself with a perceptible measure of delicacy he did not usually emit.

Perhaps he did appreciate the location.

Stopping at the opposite end of the admittedly claustrophobic environment, he turned to face her.

Still unclear on exactly what they were doing, she positioned herself across from him and assumed a somewhat relaxed stance. "So, what exactly are we doing today?" The feline was still trying to adjust to the knowledge that he intended to test his skill against her, in what she imagined would be a contest with a swift and painful conclusion. But hey, at least they were alone.

"As this will be the first exercise of ours together, I think a slow start would be prudent." He replied in an even tone. As he spoke, the spartan progressively underwent a series of positions to limber up.

Miyu scrutinized Six as he adopted a sequence of warm up stances she had never seen before. But seeing as he was an alien, it was not surprising. Though... it was a rather pleasant show for her eyes, the feline analyzing every shift of his exceptional musculature. "Alright... so what's slow? Because I haven't known you to be slow, just saying." Bending forwards for a quick stretch of her own, the cat touched the tips of her boots and gave her tail a few experimental flicks, listening to the nearly inaudible pops her bones made after having seen little use the past week. At least if anything, this would be a good way to get some of the exercise she had been avoiding. 

Six shrugged openly, a relatively easygoing twist to his scarred visage. She didn't know how well humans aged, but from a purely uneducated guess, she would place him in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, which meant that he still fit into her... demographic.

"At the least I want to get a test in skill gap, see where it is you stand."

 

Miyu chuckled. "I didn't know this was going to end up being a personal evaluation, otherwise I might have been a little less eager to accept."

"I would think you'd see it as a rare opportunity to learn from an experienced war veteran. This will be just as much for me as it will be for you." His expression assumed a firmer quality as he gave a blunt explanation. "While I would like to keep in form, I also wish to impart upon you training that just might help you survive." He had never considered himself a teacher, in fact the very notion was both unappealing and unwanted, but if he could give her anything that could keep her alive on the field, he would try to be one.

"I suppose that does sound a little tempting." She admitted with a grin, imagining what she could learn from a warrior like him. If she even gained a fragment of his ability, she would become a serious force to be reckoned with. And she would be lying if she denied that it would be pretty great to be able to wipe the floor with Falco whenever he got on her nerves.

He smirked. "I thought you might feel that way." Straightening out, he altered his stance slightly. "Now then, let's get started."

 

 

*****

 

Nodding with some hesitance, she took a single step forward, recalling everything she had ever learned from instructors, her mother, and herself. It would take every shred of her experience and training just to lose with some grace. She didn't suffer from any delusions; Miyu knew she stood no chance of beating him. But she could give Six one hell of a run, and possibly, hopefully, impress him.

'Right, time to get my ass kicked.'

 

Seeming as he was waiting for her to make the first move, Miyu took the time to analyze him in greater detail, hoping to spot any flaw she might be able to exploit. But she was utterly mystified. He assumed no martial bearing she knew to exist. In fact, he appeared to just be innocuously standing in place, admittedly, it was impossible for Six to seem careless in any fashion, yet so he did at that moment.

It was decidedly unsettling.

Taking in his almost overly muscled physique, she knew an outright battle of strength would only result in disaster... but oh did he know how to fill out a uniform! The deep black outfit he wore was almost... inappropriately tight in some places.

Miyu shook her muzzle, inwardly chastising herself. 'Not now brain! Don't think about those... big muscles... broad shoulders... mysterious crimson ey- hey!' She gave her head a few more vigorous shakes, praying he didn't start thinking she was undergoing a seizure. That would only compound her embarrassment 'Focus! Got to stay focused!'

 

The feline once more tried to study him as objectively as possible. 'Right... he's big, insanely fast, and packs one hell of a punch.... What the hell am I supposed to do?' Usually there were balances, a big person was strong and slow while a small person was generally weaker but fast. Yet Six suffered none of these stereotypical shortcomings. He was the highest contender in every category on the board. She would have to utilize some sort of strategy to even pose a threat. Yet the only thing she could think of was an attempt to unbalance him. That was her most likely chance to succeed in gaining a viable, if temporary advantage.

If she was fast enough, a leg sweep, followed by a swift palm strike to the chest might get her results. But anything after that was fair game. As long as she was able to maintain the offensive, she should be able to hold out for a while.

'Well, here goes nothing.' With a decidedly ramshackle plan in in mind, she readied to enact it. Miyu sluggishly crossed the short distance between them, still hesitant to start the hostilities. She had never really considered tussling with Six, (at least not this way). Best case, she impressed him and learned a few things about fighting, worst case, she would be admitted to Corneria Medical with several broken bones.

The feline met his eyes, trying to see if she could get a read from them, but those red orbs remained stalwart and indecipherable.

'Aw hell.' With an internal shrug declaring acceptance of the coming events and a pray to the gods, she quickly crouched down and flung a leg out, sending the booted appendage hurtling towards his legs. Yet, having already anticipated the moves failure, she launched an opened palm towards his chest as she spun on the tips of her toes like a top.

As Miyu waited the split-second for the attacks to connect, she suffered an abrupt sensation of weightlessness, followed by a queasy wave of vertigo as the world spun erratically in front of her eyes. It took several seconds for the feline to realize that her gaze was focused on the leafy canopy above, and that her body was firmly planted on the soft grass of the forest floor. A dull ache in her stomach informed her that she had most definitely lost the first bout, crashing down in fiery blaze of embarrassment and humility.

Groaning, she rolled onto her belly and buried her muzzle into the grassland, acquiescing to her defeat about as gracefully as she could at that point. "That went about as well as expected." She muttered, her voice muffled by the leafy ground. Even so, she was absolutely amazed by the spartan's speed. The cat had not even seen him move!

A soft chuckle met her ears as a heavy weight landed on her shoulder and slowly pulled her up to her feet, a nearly imperceptible smirk on the spartan's face as he stared down at her. "Honestly, I am impressed. That second attempted strike almost caught me by surprise."

"Fat lot a good that did me." She huffed as she found her own footing, stumbling slightly from disorientation. "I just got tossed on my ass!"

Six nodded sagely, his grin receding slightly. "True. However, I can see that you have much potential in you, for a non-spartan that is." He added lastly.

"Potential and immediate skill are two separate things. Things I imagine are going to take quite a few ass kicking's before they are one and the same."

The spartan's terse grin returned in full force and he slowly lowered an arm over her shoulder in a completely unanticipated display of comradery. "That's the spirit." He praised her openly.

Miyu momentarily froze as she felt Six's arm drape across her shoulders, the action as unexpected as it was welcomed. She was surprised to witness such a drastic change in his personality, though she expected the reason being he had found a small part of this place that reminded him off where he came from. Why a remembrance of a horrible existence brought him any sense of pleasure was anyone's guess.

Still, this was the closest they had been since Zoness, and she was glad for the time. As painful as the process was, she could not argue with the results. There was just something... enthralling, about this dissimilar side of him, that uncommon friendly atmosphere and cordiality he surrounded himself with. While wholly contradictory of the Six she had come to know, it was just as desirable to her as his other half. It allowed her to envision an actual future for the spartan, one decidedly better than the hellish warzone he had originated from. And while he was an undoubtedly handsome man with a hard to read, yet irrefutably kind heart, she wanted to help him reach that future for more reason than his attractive features.

Miyu chanced a quick peek at Six's face, he still carrying that smile, little more than a nearly unnoticeable curl to his lips. He had never really smiled before, at least not like normal individuals did. His were always closely guarded affairs, where one had to truly have some understanding of him to be able to decipher the difference between a smile and a grimace. And she was now only just beginning to understand.

This was one of the rare times that he allowed himself to show any open expression, which in the end was difficult to interpret anyways. Seeing him so content brought a smile to her own face. Miyu had not forgotten the story of his past that he had shared with her, such a world was horrifying to imagine, where his species waged a war of survival against impossible odds. Had she not known him before hearing it, she would have easily discounted it as some eccentric tale from an equally bizarre man. But, if he could still smile - however jaded it might be - after being forced to endure such dire circumstances... well it was enough to give her hope, not just for him but for herself. If she stuck around him, she could learn much about what it meant to truly live.

Miyu believed that people existed to be tested. The crucible of life was the only way one could truly discover what kind of person they were, their experiences, both tragic and blissful, were what forged them into the ones they were meant to be. And if there was anyone who could help show her the path, it was Six. He was a living testament to the saying trial by fire, his life cast by the flames of war and immersed in strife.

"Miyu..."

 

The feline turned to the voice, matching the spartan's unwavering gaze.

"Are you ready to continue?"

 

She nodded, returning his stare with a fanged smirk.

"I was born ready."

 

*****

 

Six had to admit, her enthusiasm was without reservation, praiseworthy. He had not met a single person that would ever show such eagerness to spar with a spartan, indeed, many would have bolted to the nearest airlock had they been aboard a starship, preferring the frigid vacuum as the least painful way to die. But that was a horrid misconception and a grievous insult.

He had trained extensively, just to ensure that he knew the correct force to apply. After all, it would not do to accidently kill a HVT before information could be extracted. While he knew more than a thousand different ways to kill with his hands, he knew just as many that incapacitated or paralyzed a target, though for the sake of their current session he would refrain from employing them.

While having a vast amount of training under his belt, Six was uncertain if he could pass it on to the feline in front of him. The methods used to craft him into an engine of war would be unfit for Miyu. He doubted even that she would survive the kind of harsh regiment he had been forced to endure since childhood. Yet he supposed there some things he could impart upon her, there were some tactics and martial arts that could be suitable, a few standard marine defensive and offense styles, moves that had been adapted from well-known combat styles throughout history.

But before he could progress to such a point, there was much work to be done. She was an excellent combatant to be sure, granted she faced an opponent that lacked the spartan's enhancements and military expertize. As she was now, her moves were horribly telegraphed, giving him abundant warning to formulate a counter. He had peered through her plan of attack long before she had the chance to execute it and thus had been able to riposte quickly and efficiently. What she needed more than a new style of combat, was to focus on her application of what was already learned. Miyu was capable, but did not meet his prospects. She could be more, and he would help her achieve that.

This was what he promised himself.

Once, long ago at a time that seemed an eternity from this moment, unfeeling men in dark grey uniforms and hate for all that he was, had done much the same for him. Except for her, he would nurture, not enforce. That he wished someone had been there for him in that time of suffering, the least he could, was be here for her.

Six took the time to study the feline's expression, both as practice to maintain his understanding of their race's expressive nuances as well as a means of evaluation. The tips of her fangs poked from the corners of her black lips, almost jauntily, and her ears, slanted forwards, all but matching her posture. Wholly, she appeared fiercely determined to prove herself, and the spartan found the seed of respect he had for her, sprouting. She might have made for a remarkable candidate for the spartan program, though such a thought filled him with distaste. She was underserving of such a nightmarish existence as that. But, he could see to it that she was made ready for any circumstance he could prepare her for.

However, in order to be able to help her, he had to lower himself to a level she could follow. Not an altogether difficult task, he had experience in dulling his abilities. And if necessary he could effectively 'tone' his strength down, though the description of such a process was crude. It would take some serious alterations in his mindset, but he could simulate the strength of a non-augmented being. He had not had much cause to do so in recent years, not since his campaign against the insurrection, infiltrating border colony populations and eliminating rebel outposts. The Insurrectionists had been painfully aware of the spartan program at that point in the war, and knew what signs to look for.

In order to combat this, efforts had been made to roughly 'humanize' spartan operatives, just enough to ensure that they could pass as normal under scrutiny. And one such part of that project had been the taming of their unmitigated power.

There were loads of complicated aphorisms and verbiages to describe the extended program, some sort of internal switch between that normal level of strength and that of an enhanced supersoldier, acting as some sort of biological inhibitor. But the long as short of the matter was simple, it made them harder to detect.

Once he had been pulled from his strikes against the rebellion to be tasked with combating the Covenant, Six had never thought he would need to use such obscure skills again. But here he was now, about to utilize that seemingly useless talent to help train a comrade... a friend.

It was indeed an unpredictable development, but for once he was thankful to have the means to do so. Now all he had to do was apply them.

Plotting on ways to continue their exercise, Six found his eyes focusing more and more on the feline woman. He had always been objective in his observations of individuals. Thoughts as to the appeal of their appearances were ones he by no means bothered to have. Never had he ever considered it, not once in all his admittedly short, war torn years of being alive.

But such sentiment had started to change with Krystal... and now it would seem Miyu fit this new and unexpected category. He found both of their features to be alluring, in spite of, or perhaps a result of their exotic origins. Beauty, true feminine beauty, was a new and unexplored concept to Six, just as much of the experiences he found himself going through in this new stage of his life. And both females were striking examples of their respective races. At this point after all he had been through since arriving, he could admit to himself that they were beautiful, such a fact could not be denied. Six was not sure why he suddenly felt this way, what exactly had changed in his inner self, nor did he know how to appreciate their charm. What went past simple physical attraction? For that is what Six now realized himself to be, attracted to them.

Quite frankly, this new consideration of two of his team members was a puzzle he had yet to solve. But within solving that puzzle, he might hope to find the key to his future, a prospect he was beginning to put more thought into. Now, he actually could have one, given he had the fortitude to make the alterations required.

Even with this new development, he had been interested in them long before such thoughts came into being.

Krystal, one who he shared a great deal in common, yet were polar opposites. He wished to protect her from any manner of threat that might regret heading her way. He would willingly lay down his life to preserve that innocence and purity she possessed, something that had long ago died inside him. Six cared for her, perhaps more than he would ever truly know. She gave him the purpose he thought he had lost the moment Reach collapsed around him, after the last member of Noble fell.

And then, there was Miyu.

He had not given her much thought or attention, not out of willful ignorance but rather sheer uncertainty. She perplexed him, her mere mannerisms and force of presence, enough to confound him and force him to face such feelings he had never felt before. And once she had given him her story, he had felt some odd kinship with her, the shared loss of a mother, though he had no memory of his own, that seemed to matter not to his subconscious. From his understanding of her he came to a realization.

He wished to help her succeed.

She had potential, the more he interacted with her the more he saw it. She could be so much more than she was, just as he saw a leader in Fox, so he saw a true warrior in Miyu, perhaps the closest one to himself that he had encountered in this world. She had all the traits needed to be a good soldier, determination, resilience, and the endurance of spirit to spit in the eye of adversity. Not once had he ever witnessed a hint of genuine weakness in her, not when they met and not when she had nearly met her end on Zoness. If she feared death, she did not show it.

Yet what most fascinated him about her was the knowledge that she was not a spartan, nor human for that matter. All of this inner strength and resolve came not from a ruthless program, but from within her own heart. That alone was enough to earn his curiosity, and even admiration. He only imagined what kind of individual she might be given training and advice from one such as himself. And he wanted to help her attain this.

"Hey, uh, Six. What are you looking at?" The feline under his attention mumbled halfheartedly, a deep blush pushing at her muzzle. He had never been so focused on her before, and while disconcerting, she felt a jolt of elation upon realizing that there just might be something in him that felt the same way about her as she did him.

In response, the spartan's gaze passed over her as if he had not just been intently studying every facet of her being, moving to regard the tree behind her. In her eyes, it was a poor substitute to the woman in front of him. "It is nothing, don't be concerned. We should get back to the lesson at hand."

 

Till he could make a decision on how to address these feelings, she need not know what troubled him. Closing his eyes briefly, Six focused on that part of him that would temporarily negate his enhancements. He likened the process as flicking a switch inside one's head, simple, yet immediate.

Eyes open, he was ready to continue. "Now then, let's try this again. For this encounter I will refrain from using my augmentations. This should give you a greater chance to succeed."

 

Miyu's maw dropped open in surprise and a small degree of excitement. "You can do that?" Now she had a very real chance to not only contest, but win. The bragging rights she would garner from beating Six would be legendary. Even Falco would have to accept that she was better than him.

"That I can. Though do not assume to be overconfident. I am no easy foe."

 

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Let's get going!" The feline breezed through his words, too enamored with the thought of showing Six her potential.

This was her ticket in.

Six held back a sigh. It would only take a few moments to show her that there was more to his skill then his amplified strength and senses.

"Very well then, whenever you are ready."

 

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Six shifted to the side, sidestepping Miyu's boot clad foot as she sent it hurtling towards his skull. Even as the booted heel sped past his cheek, Six leaned backwards, avoiding the second one, the feline having perfectly executed a double roundhouse. He had only been momentarily surprised by her action, more of the perceptible increase in the swiftness to her attacks then the nearly underhanded way she executed them.

In fact he could tell that she might be faster than himself in this new adaptation to their little skirmish, perhaps even quicker than a human would be. No doubt this was due to her kind's swift nature.

It took a noticeable measure of his skill to outmaneuver the feline's sudden and fierce assault and it most certainly would have given a normal human cause for concern, mayhap more. She had not been lying when she boasted of her combat acumen. But he had a lifetime of battlefield experience bashed into his head. She was not the toughest enemy he faced, regardless of his mitigated strength.

As Miyu flung a fist in his direction, Six outstretched a hand and, with a minute application of force, ensured her trajectory would miss, the cat's paw overshooting her target destination to leave her exposed. Bringing up his unused appendage, he powered a low strike, directly into her abdomen, the blow landing with enough force to knock the wind from her lungs. Miyu staggered backwards, the hit having been a devastating surprise.

Six attempted to follow up his success with a chain of equally precise attacks, but the feline tucked her chest to her knees and rolled backwards, her tail slapping Six across the face as she affected her escape. Nimbly, she firmly planted her paws on the grass and used her newly created momentum to launch herself at him like a fuzzy missile, both boots smashing into his chest.

Unfortunately for the cat, her maneuver did not have the intended results. It did not stagger him. Instead, Six grabbed her calves and locked them in his grip, her upper body unceremoniously flopping to the ground.

Her guard effectively negated, Six released her legs and stepped backwards. If he had so chosen he could have easily immobilized her. But she already knew she had been defeated so there had been no need.

Reaching down, he extended his hand out to her, the feline sighing as she stared up into the sky once again. "Different fight, same ending." She muttered, reaching out to grasp his offered assistance. It seemed even as weakened as he made himself, she still had little chance of beating him. This had been too quick for her liking. Miyu had hoped to have at least been able to draw the fight out a little bit longer. Instead it had ended in all of a few minutes.

"Maybe, yet you did much better this time." He pulled her up, what looked like a hint of respect in his bright red eyes. "After all, one can't improve so quickly. Things like this take time and effort."

 

His words did much to soothe the burn of failure. He was right, she had done better. She had even managed to get one or two good hits in. Not only that, what was more important to her, she could see that he was impressed. And that had been what she wanted the most.

Six glanced down to the machine on his wrist, some sort of portable computing device the likes of which Fox carried. "We still have a few hours till I must return to my other duties. We can continue if you wish, or call it here till another day if you so prefer?"

 

"No." She grunted, squaring her shoulders. "I can do this. After all..." She grinned cheekily. "I have to beat you at least once today."

The spartan shook his head. "If that is what you believe, we might be here for quite some time."

"Was that a dig at my skill?" The feline demanded with a chuckle.

Six shrugged. "Merely an observation," He confessed.

"Oh you'll be observing something all right." She declared confidently.

"And that is?"

 

"You'll be observing my victorious smirk from the floor once I'm done with you!" She fired out with a clawed digit aimed at his chest in challenge, the feline's tail lashing back and forth behind her in excitement.

"Is that so? Do you truly believe you will best me?" He was genuinely curious as to what her answer would be.

"Oh I know I can." 

The spartan grunted doubtfully.

"Then prove it."


	21. Recreation Part 3

Chapter 19: Recreation Part 3

 

"Hey, has anyone seen Six?" Fox inquired as his emerald gaze scanned the villa's central living room. Moments ago he had just returned from the city, his dinner date with Fara having been interrupted by a call from the General. It seemed that both he and the spartan had been summoned for another strategy meeting. And judging from Pepper's tone, the sooner they departed the better.

"No, haven't seen the big man for a few hours now." Falco replied casually, the avian's attention focused on the television, an off brand sitcom mumbling in the backdrop.

With that extremely helpful answer, the vulpine turned to someone else. "Fay?" He asked hopefully.

"Sorry Fox, I haven't seen him either." The snow white canine frowned apologetically.

Slippy soon proved to be equally as uniformed on the spartan's location so Fox turned to Krystal, thinking that the vixen would know above anyone else as to where he might be. Yet she sat at one of the corners of the room on a padded mat in a cross-legged position. The vixen was apparently in one of her meditative moods, and so she would not likely be receptive to an interruption.

Sighing in consternation, Fox turned to leave, figuring he would have to go in search of the spartan himself. He knew that Six did not have many haunts. There was the makeshift armory, the little garden, his and Krystal's room, and the gym. But a few minutes of searching each location provided no fruits to show for his labor.

Six was nowhere to be found.

This left Fox at an impasse. Did he waste more time looking for Six or did he leave without him? But, seeing as the spartan was a vital part of the upcoming conference, he couldn't very well show up without him.

The vulpine decided to do one last search of the house for him before he was forced to head out, and in doing so passed the front door just as it opened. He would have continued further into the villa if not for catching the spartan's looming stature in his peripheral vision as the human stooped inside, preventing Fox's exit and bringing the vulpine quickly around to face him.

As he was about to speak, Fox halted, noting something off about his human friend.

He watched as Six entered, surprised to see Miyu step in after him. The pair stopped, hovering at the door's threshold, bringing an apprehensive sense of awkwardness to the air. The spartan gave the impression that he was perturbed, a visible twist of consternation to his countenance, as if he was still processing some recent event that had yet to fully settle with him.

Likewise, Miyu wore an uneasy frown, her tail hanging limply at her side. And as both she and the spartan turned to face Fox, the feline occasionally cast furtive glances in Six's direction, guilt lacing her sulking visage.

It was apparent to him that something had transpired between them, and as interested as he was in finding out exactly what that something was, he and Six had more pressing matters to deal with. "Six, Pepper's summoned us for another strategy meeting."

The spartan nodded, but otherwise remained mute. There was a moment of awkward silence before someone spoke next.

"I-I should probably get going." Miyu suddenly announced, hiking a thumb over her shoulder. And just like that the cat disappeared down the hall, vanishing almost as quickly as she arrived.

Fox watched her leave, both confused and curious in equal measure. He had never seen her so twitchy before. Something must have indeed happened between her and Six. While tempted as he was to inquire about it, he refrained once more, it was none of his business and the vulpine had decided some time ago to stay out of the spartan's personal affairs.

"You said the General had need of us?" Six's voice manifested over Fox's shoulder.

The tod turned to face the towering human, taking in his unreadable expression and detached tone. At that moment, he was reminded of the man he met months ago, an impassive, seemingly heartless machine. And Fox was unhappy at being able to see that comparison return.

"Yeah." He replied absently, his mind briefly centered on thoughts of the past. "Pepper wants to finalize some of those ideas of yours."

Merely nodding in acceptance, Six motioned for Fox to lead.

 

*****

 

Their discussion on defensive tactics and strategies only lasted for a few hours, Pepper, Fox, and Six combing over the most recent reports on the CDF's capacity to fight another war. It was a rather depressing summit, with little good to show for it. As it was, it would take the fleet at least a year just to replenish the losses they'd suffered and had continued to suffer since the first Lylat War. And the army was in similar dire conditions of disrepair. The majority of their armored vehicles and infantry fighting force remained thoroughly depleted, and what was left was nearly wholly comprised of raw recruits and rundown transport assets.

The recent influx of personnel from the activation of the reserves was more a stopgap than a solution, mostly composed of cornerians either barely out of their teens or grey in muzzle and long of tooth. Without extensive training and battlefield experience these fresh soldiers would be of little use to the army, more a danger to themselves then the enemy. And as it was, there were few if any left that were qualified to train them. There just wasn't enough of the old guard left to go around. What they needed most at the moment were experienced individuals that could train the new recruits.

Factor in the materials and manpower needed to equip, train, and lead this chaotic mess, as well as the vast resources needed to restock the woefully exhausted mechanized units and what they ended up having was a logistics nightmare.

Fox had hoped for some better news, and yet what was perhaps more troubling had been the distinct lack of input from their resident supersoldier, Six had remained mute for virtually the entirety of the meeting. Whether this was a result of what had possibly occurred between him and Miyu or the general bleakness of their situation, Fox was unsure. It was possible that with such an atrocious state of affairs, there was nothing that could be said.

All Fox knew for certain, was that by the end of the conference, he was both exhausted and disheartened. They had not accomplished much, unless you considered debating over the sustainability of their meager military might to be a sign of progress. If the aparoids attacked, Fox dreaded to think on the resulting conflict. They may have Six, but there was only so much one individual could do, and it was completely unfair to dump the crushing weight of a society's hopes on his shoulders.

Both he and Six stepped out of the General's office, making their way to the elevators and out of the building. As they traveled down the marble steps of the CDF command building, Fox kept his gaze focused on his towering companion. He may have thought against it, but Six's business was in the end, his business as well. If something was bothering his friend, he wanted to get to the bottom of it. And he figured on just the way to get that done.

"All that talking has left me kind of parched." The vulpine flicked his head beckoningly. "Come on, I know just the place to wet our throats."

Hardly paying attention to his surroundings, Six nodded in acceptance and moved to follow Fox as he headed down the street.

He knew just where to go, a little hole in the wall of a place he stumbled upon a few years ago, back when it had only been Falco, Slippy, Peppy, and himself. It was quite homely for a bar, with just enough space for a dozen or so patrons to sit comfortably, and that was perhaps why he liked it so much. A relaxed atmosphere would be just what they needed right now.

It took a short five minute jaunt down the road to reach the place in question, and once they arrived, he and the spartan took seats at the bar top, the bulky human sitting awkwardly on the small stool. Once situated, Fox flagged down the bartender, calling for two fingers of whiskey for himself and Six. And upon remembering what had happened to his last stash, he asked the feline to leave the bottle, which the cat did with only a minor curious glance in the human's direction.

Once the two glasses were placed in front of them, Fox quickly swigged his own, gesturing for Six to do the same. With only a brief moment of hesitation the spartan mimicked his comrade, quickly chugging it down.

Pouring them both a refill from the bottle, Fox finally allowed himself to speak what had been on his mind, hoping that the presence of alcohol would do its work and oil the spartan's verbal hinges. "I hate to pry," He began, knowing full well that was not true. "But are you feeling alright?"

The spartan did not respond immediately, instead choosing to top-up his drink... all the way to the lip of his glass, the golden fluid sloshing against the rim and threatening to spill over. Starring into the swirling eddies created by the sudden extra portion, Six responded in a low, detached voice. "I'm fine."

Fox rolled his eyes doubtfully. "Sure you are, and I'm a Papetoonian rock lizard." The vulpine reached out to the human, teasingly nudging his arm with a paw. "Come on Six, what's the matter with you? A cat got your tongue?"

A clatter of glass momentarily grabbed Fox's attention, he noticing that the spartan had spilled most of his drink onto the bar top. The human's expression had frozen on one of alarm and he was, at least for him, visibly agitated.

The surprised vulpine remained silent as the bartender returned to swiftly wipe up the mess with a rag, using that time to playback what had been said to earn such an unfamiliar reaction out of the typically unshakable spartan. It must have been something to do with a cat, namely the only one on the team. But what might have happened between him and Miyu to elicit such a powerful reaction in Six?

"What, this has something to do with Miyu?"

Six nodded, downing the residual contents of his glass that had survived the spartan's sudden reaction. "She... surprised me today, something I had not expected. Your turn of phrase was... painfully accurate."

"Turn of phrase?" Fox mumbled to himself in confusion.

Then it dawned on him.

"Oh...... Oooooh! She... I see." Now uncomfortable himself, Fox tapped a claw on the top of the bar, eyes deciding to focus on the wall of liquor in front of him. "Do you... know why she would do that?"

He did not need to see the spartan's unamused glare to feel it burning into the back of his neck. "Right... right." He pounded his chest a few times, coughing awkwardly. Admittedly this had not been what he was expecting to talk about. He had no real insight as to what direction this conversation would take, but he definitely had not factored this in.

He recognized that Miyu had been sticking close to Six, he just had not realized how close she intended to be. All Fox knew was that the spartan was either a very unfortunate or really lucky guy.

Yet, all that aside, he was admittedly curious.

"So, did she actually... you know." The vulpine gestured clumsily with his glass. Fox could not help but imagine such an odd sight as what his friend must be depicting.

Six gave him a measured, cautious affirmation with a tilt of his head.

"Wow..." Fox leaned back in his chair heavily, unsure whether or not to chuckle in amusement or wince in sympathy. "I mean, not quite sure what I can say. Are you going to tell Krystal?" He could only wonder what she might do after learning about this. And he feared for the integrity of his team. Relationships could either be the best thing to happen to you, or the ugliest affair you could ever expect to experience in your life. They may all be close, but in would not take much to change that.

"You cornerians are such... strange, fickle creatures." The spartan muttered softly, tapping his empty glass with a thick finger, other hand resting near the half empty bottle of whiskey, perhaps debating whether or not to reach out for it.

It had not gone unnoticed that the human had not answered the vulpine's question, instead changing the topic.

"Prone to sudden bursts of extreme emotion, you dart around with no deference to discipline or restraint in your lives, rushing from one chaotic moment to another. It confounds me, how you so effortlessly maintain such a turbulent existence. I cannot for the life of me understand this." As it was, it seemed Six suddenly had a lot to get off of his chest. Maybe the whiskey was starting to loosen his lips, giving him the opportunity to do something he would have never considered otherwise.

Fox chose to remain silent as the spartan spoke, listening to the human's words with great interest. It was not often he so completely voiced his thoughts and Fox hoped to learn more about the estranged member of his team, helping himself to the bottle in the meantime.

Six filled his glass once more, either uncaring or unaware of alcohol's potent effects. Or maybe it just did not affect him like it did anyone else. Other than his newfound love of words, he showed no outwards sign of its typical adverse properties. He was as coherent and eloquent as ever. "I'm no fool. I know that I lost much of what made me 'human'," He stressed the word, almost contemptuously. "Not that I suppose it matters in a world like this. I suspect I may be the only human in this universe, though I may not be an authentic product of humankind. The process to become a spartan is not one easily described. It is not the same as when one joins any archetypal military branch. Do you know what they did to me? What I had to endure hardly a month after my world was turned to ash, my family brutally ripped from me?" Six regarded Fox with a steely gaze, his hard crimson eyes seeming to demand an answer from him.

Fox could only shake his head in reply.

He knew very little of Six's past, just what he had heard from the spartan in passing on occasion and when he had talked to Pepper for the first time. It was not near enough to form a coherent picture, though he suspected that would soon change.

This being one of the very rare times that the spartan so wholly opened up to him, Fox was uncertain whether he should let this continue or try to get back to the route of their original discussion. He could not help but wonder how a conversation about Miyu could end up being the catalytic agent needed to get Six to divulge his sordid origin.

"I was taken to a clandestine military base, on a world called Onyx. There, myself along with hundreds of other children, were subjected to the harshest, most unforgiving tutelage the army could possibly devise. Those of us that did not die in the first few months were put through further tests, all designed to produce a breed soldier that exceled in all forms of war, created to live up to a legacy near impossible to replicate."

 

Six went silent for a moment, a multitude of shifting expressions clear on his scarred face.

"I will never forget what happened there, how they broke us into pieces, destroying what it was that made us who we were. And once we were broken, they rebuilt us into the weapons they needed us to be." The spartan frowned. "Tell me, Fox. What was your childhood like?"

 

The unanticipated question caught the vulpine by surprise. The last thing he had would have expected from Six was a question about his childhood. But, since the spartan was so forthcoming about his past, he could only do the same.

Fox topped off his drink, nursing the alcoholic beverage as he reminisced on memories he had not bothered to revisit in quite some time, a few moments of silence as he pieced them together. "Well, I suppose it was like anyone else's really. I went to school, had a few girlfriends, and hung out with my friends, pretty regular stuff. It wasn't anything truly special." He had of course been the school's top athlete, still presiding over the highest record of point scores in Valewood High's history. But he doubted that was relevant to someone like Six. Which, now that Fox thought about it, might just be the spartan's point.

Six chuckled softly, shaking his head in amused consternation as his eyes wandered the sparsely populated bar. "You should know, I am jealous of you, Fox. Though you may not consider such an ordinary upbringing to be anything extraordinary, to me it is remarkable, enviously so. Whereas your juvenile years consisted of a carefree existence, mine was cemented in merciless survival and coldblooded violence. I had already killed my first person before I was eleven, slipped a blade between an insurrectionist's ribs. From there, the body count had only risen."

 

Fox was unsure of how to respond. He had never considered his life to be enviable. Sure he had passable good looks, a great fiancé, and a fantastic group of friends. But many others had the same thing, and fame was not all it was cracked up to be in retrospect. Yet... hearing that as a child, Six had already been a trained killer, even knowing the spartan as he was now it was a difficult notion to comprehend. At ten, the vulpine had been afraid to even hurt a fly, let alone end someone's life. With little choice otherwise, the vulpine decided to remain mute and let his friend remove what must have been a monumental weight off of his chest.

"I've known no other life then what the military had supplied me. War was to me, the environment of my upbringing. It was all I ever knew. So you could understand how some concepts you take for granted are quite mysterious to one such as I. Like Krystal's infatuation with myself. Do not mistake my words as harsh. I care a great deal for that vixen. She has helped me in more ways than I will most likely ever know, shown me that life is not as austere in its disparity as I always believed it to be. I never thought I would be given the opportunities to have what could amount to an ordinary existence. With her though, I actually feel as if that is possible, as amusingly irrational as that might brand me."

 

Six sighed.

"But I will never understand the reason she is so devoted to me. I can never give her a conventional life. I will try, I owe that much to her. Yet ideals you take to be the average, by which everyone follows without doubt as a fact of life, are standards I remain despairingly naïve to. I am a warrior Fox; it is all I know how to be and I excel at such a profession. However I lack the ingrained experience in any other facet of life that other people convey so effortlessly. I know not how to reciprocate the displays of affection she so caringly dotes on me, nor do I think I am capable of giving her the future she is entitled to."

 

The spartan was fully aware of his faults, blindingly so. The only conceivable role he could play for the vixen was as her protector. He persisted to be glaringly inept in more mundane walks of life, a fact that frustrated him to no end. Six did not even possess a single civic asset to his name, his armor being the only legacy he carried with him, and a markedly bloody one at that. He had tried to correct this wrong by building that structure in the woods, a gift he had hoped to bestow upon Krystal once it was finished, the one productive skill he had to offer her.

And he hated it, the knowledge that he could give her nothing of substantial worth in recompense for all the wonderful things she gave him. It burned at his soul, whatever of it that was left. She deserved more, needed more, then what he was capable of returning, no matter how hard he might try. There were just some obligations of a relationship he was either unprepared for or simply could not fulfill.

She was everything to him, and nothing. Krystal served no comprehensible purpose yet he now could not live without her. He either detested her presence, or craved it. She was an enigma, one that seemed to flutter back and forth in his perception, never settling on one precise meaning.

Even now he felt that incessant tugging in his chest, an inescapable pull that's indication he had come to recognize as his yearning for that cerulean vixen. Her soft voice and kind eyes helped him forget his past and all of its profound scars. Her silken fur cushioned him at night and kept the darkness in his soul at bay, hinting at the parts of him that had long sense laid dormant. A conversation with her was all he needed to lighten even the most foulest of his moods.

She completed him, in ways he still did not understand.

And Miyu only sought to further complicate this, an already messy affair. She was a good friend to him, a fiery woman that easily brought a smile to his face with her antics, which was in itself a difficult task. Yet upon learning of the depth of her regard for him, he no longer knew what to think about her. He did not feel about her as he did Krystal. True, he did admire her feminine features, and her prowess in combat was as respectable as her determination. But the emotions he felt towards the vixen were not replicated with the cat, at least not to such a high degree.

How he wished for the simpler days, back when his goals and values had been easy to interpret. Fighting the Covenant had not been so taxing on his mind as these comparatively lesser concerns. Such sentiments as love and companionship held no sway over that Six, though they all but controlled him now. He doubted Jorge had anticipated this in all his talks on life after the war, a previously impossible concept. He did not know whether his fellow spartan would have smiled or laughed at this cosmic absurdity.

His upbringing left Six wholly unprepared to handle the situation he currently faced. And though this talk with Fox assisted in alleviating some of the stress that had built up since the event with Miyu, the spartan concluded this to be something he could only handle on his own. He would have to tell Krystal about this, lying or otherwise refraining from informing her was a choice he had not even bothered to put forward. He had never told a lie, not a single day in his life and he had no wish to start now, especially not with her.

He would tell her the truth, and deal with the consequences as they came. He did not know what her response might be, but he knew she would never fault him. That was just the type of person Krystal was, indeed why he respected her so much.

Six glanced at his cup, wondering on whether or not to get another serving of the beverage Fox had ordered. He found it helped him piece together his considerations, offering him a clarity of thought he had been previously unable to attain, yet needed to bring a solution to these muddled issues. But, he discovered that the bottle was empty, he and Fox having finished it over the course of their dialogue. Six debated on the merit of requesting another bottle but in the end decided against it. Best to leave things as they were.

"Thank you Fox, you are quite a good listen-"

Turning to Fox, he started to speak, intending to tell the vulpine that he was finished when he noticed the condition of his friend, words dying on his lips. Fox's muzzle rested on the bar top, an arm propping it up as his snored softly into the sleeve of his coat, a peaceful guise to his face.

Six chuckled at the sight.

It would seem as though his long winded monologue and silent brooding had lulled his commander to sleep. It was not all that surprising, he knew Fox had not given himself much rest as of late. Too busy worrying over the possibility of this invasion. He did not like how Fox pushed himself so hard on a concern so far out of his control. There was little if anything he could do that had not already been done and he only sought to exhaust himself by taking this unnecessary course of action. Things like that, the worries Fox so needlessly placed on his own shoulders, had long ago ceased to be of disquiet to Six. What may come would come. He would do as he always did, confront the tides of adversity and do his best to succeed.

Now though, he thought with a frown. He did have his share of fears. Krystal would survive whatever might happen. He would see to that till the last drop of blood left his dying corpse. She was his newfound reason to live, his salvation, a woman that meant more to him than life itself, as little as its importance had been to him in the past.

It was quite an amusing notion really. Never had he once anticipated that a single living being, an extraterrestrial vixen nonetheless, would provoke such a drastic metamorphosis in him, altering all that he was and had been. Yet he could not be more content with his lot in life. Undeniably, he had gained much from her, from all of Starfox, each in their own way contributing to this adaptation he had unwittingly undergone. Here, he knew a peace of mind he could never have hoped to have in his home of origin.

Six did not often voice or think it, but he was immensely grateful towards Fox for offering him a place on his team. He was not the same spartan he had been many months ago, and he liked to believe that such a difference would be in the end, for the better. Six wished to repay the vulpine with his unwavering loyalty and devotion, hopeful that would be enough to settle this substantial debt he felt was owed.

To start, he would let Fox have his rest here, knowing he would not do so otherwise, stubborn much like the spartan himself in that regard. Not knowing how long this might be, Six summoned the bartender and ordered another bottle, tending the drink till his vulpine commander awoke.

Now he rested with his thoughts, leaving all his concerns for a later time. As of this moment, he would enjoy this brief instance of reprieve from all of his considerable troubles.

For once, Six would allow himself to be just that.

Himself.

 

*****

 

Krystal was unsurprised to feel Miyu's presence as the nervous feline paced back and forth outside of her room. She had already known that she would be coming to see her. In her meditation, Krystal had felt something happen, a brief, jagged spike of emotion erupting from her spartan and from Miyu as well. It did not take much forethought after that to realize what had occurred.

She knew Miyu well enough to anticipate her actions. The fiery feline was never all that effective at handling her emotions. She did as she always did, throwing everything out in the open for all to see. And judging from both of their mental states post-event, it had not gone all that well, which was in itself not all that unexpected.

The first thing Krystal had wanted to do had been to go find Six and comfort him. No doubt Miyu's forwards policy had caught him by surprise and had shaken him deeply. Yet she knew and respected that sometimes he needed his space. Six could handle himself, and would come to her whence he stabilized. She understood him quite well by now. Regardless how she felt about him, the spartan was a decidedly pragmatic and certainly dissassociative individual. Being as such, whatever had transpired between him and Miyu would be something he alone could process.

No. Her task lay within learning the exact details behind this incident, and deciding whether or not she could still consider Miyu as her friend. The cat had known very well who Six belonged to, and Krystal could not help but feel betrayed that someone she had held in such close regard would attempt something so underhanded. A powerful reason for her to pursue the answers she needed.

'The sooner the better I suppose.' She sighed reluctantly and gracefully rose from her seated position, moving towards the door with some disinclination. This was a conversation she would not relish having, but one she realized, had been too long in the waiting. The result of her inaction, a situation that had in all likelihood traumatized the male she held so dearly. And for that she could only blame herself. Despite Six's nearly incalculable determination and depthless constitution, she knew him to be a startlingly fragile soul when it came to any matter other than war, a converse truth that occupied a large percentage of her waking thoughts. She hoped to be able to change this about him. That it might improve not only his life, but that of the one she hoped to have with him.

She was not so girlishly naïve as she suspected many perceived her to be. Krystal realized what challenges she had thrust upon herself when she decided he had been the one to claim her heart. The vixen knew it would be a long uphill battle, one that she very well might lose. He might never change, might even relapse into the coldhearted warrior she had first met so long ago. And Krystal knew it would break her heart if he did. Because she had seen something inside him, an infinitesimal fragment of the man he could have been if not for the ill-fated tides of destiny. She saw a man with an endless capability for kindness and compassion, with the strength and willpower to become so much more than he was, a hero not only to her but to those in need as well. He was a soldier, the strongest she had ever laid witness to, No one person would ever be as powerful as he.

She also saw a child forced to grow up so quickly that he never had the chance to come to term with the loss of his youthful innocence or the death of his family. At the least she had the closure of an adult; he had been but an adolescent, thrown through the chaotic maelstrom of war without the anchor of a family to keep him afloat, offered only the cold administrative arm of his species' military. He was damaged, misplaced, and confused, likely never to recover. With him she might never be a mother, raise a child of her own. Since they cemented their relationship he had shown no interest in trying to conceive one, despite her occasional, scarcely guised signals. Not that they might even be genetically compatible to do so, she had yet to visit a doctor to discover if such a thing was possible. Besides which, such a situation might literally cook Six's brain. Krystal was still a few months from her cycle, and she didn't know what would happen once that time rolled around. It had been easy to control with no romantic interest to pursue, but now with Six...

She dared to wonder.

And yet despite all of this, she loved him anyways, for what he was and could be. Hoping that one day things might change, that they might get the chance to do just what she wished with all of her heart, to live as normal a life as she could give him. For he deserved to have some degree of happiness in his life after what his own people had done to him, for the salvation of their race or not it mattered little to her. They were as much as to blame for his suffering as the aliens that had killed his family and destroyed his home.

But that was far ahead of the present, for now she would have to deal with Miyu, her greatest concern. She had been wondering on how to handle this situation for days, and it looked like her time to make a decision had just been accelerated drastically.

Krystal opened the door, Miyu just crossing past it on what must have been her hundredth rotation. The feline appeared startled for a moment before recovering swiftly. "Hey Krys!" She fiddled with her looped ear, chuckling softly in quite obvious discomfort. "Just the person I was loo-"

"Come inside." Krystal interrupted brusquely, forestalling any more words with a raised paw, neither having the drive nor patience to listen to one of her laidback phrases. "There is much to discuss."

Any pretense of joviality instantly dropped from Miyu as she presented a guilty wince, preceded by a bashful grin as she recovered some of her forced good humor. "Right..." She mumbled, trudging in after the vixen who led her deeper inside without another word.

Miyu's eyes scanned Krystal's room, seeing the inside being a rather rare experience as the Vixen did not let many inside her personal quarters. It was surprisingly sparse, with little decorations or adornments, just as the last time Miyu had seen it. In fact, it was rather plan for a woman's room, at least in her opinion. The walls were a monotone white, free of the usual posters or paintings one might expect to see. And she only had a solitary bureau containing all her clothes, atop which rested a small rectangular mirror and an equally small amount of cosmetic implements. Beside it, a mannequin stood hoisted on a metal stand, wreathed in that strange scanty outfit that was a relic of her old home. She knew Krystal no longer wore it for a variety of reasons, many of which needed no deducing. The only sign that Six was a mutual owner of the room was the decidedly out-of-place rifle resting casually against the wooden dresser, the very one she remembered him using as he had saved her life on Zoness, the sight of it bringing back a host of both pleasant and uncomfortable memories.

The vixen in question set herself down on her bed, eyeing Miyu coolly from across the room. The frigidity in the space was tangible, the cat feeling a cold breeze float through her, whether from the guilt of her actions or Krystal's impassive gaze was up to a vote with an even split of fifty-fifty on the cause. Yet despite the cold, Miyu sweltered underneath that simple, unassuming glance, the collar of her shirt igniting under the strain of the vixen's emerald stare. She was blatantly aware that she was in the wrong here. That with her powers, Krystal must have known what happened. Yet, she felt no remorse for what she did. Whatever came of it, she had at least made her intentions clear.

Krystal did not speak immediately; rather she kept her gaze firmly fixed on Miyu, mind musing on how best to get to the point. The restrained, less refined part of her wished to yell and scream at the cat, show her just how upset she was at her actions. Fortunately, or perhaps not so, the dominant, cultured aspect of her took over, the one that wished to handle this discussion with some modicum of discretion and civility. After all, they had been friends for quite some time.

"Why..." She urged, deciding at last on her course of action, the sheer disbelief she felt coming to the fore. Why, with their close bond of friendship and confidence in one another? Why had Miyu betrayed her so?

Almost instantly the guilt Miyu felt was reignited as she recognized that the repercussions of what she had done may have been more severe than she first predicted. Yet, she did have an answer. It would not placate Krystal, but it would be the truth.

"I love him." She stated, pure and simple, watching as the vixen winced upon hearing those words she had known would be said but hoped not to hear. Surprisingly, out of the variety of emotions she felt upon uttering those words, relief was most apparent amongst them. While not the best of circumstances, at least everything had been put on the table, nothing left to hide, no more skulking around with these sequestered thoughts buried deep inside as they relentlessly orbited an issue only she had been plagued by.

She loved Six, in all of his awkward, sarcastic glory. She loved the ruthlessness he exuded, and the oxymoronic tenderness he kept so closely guarded. He was worth it to be around, teaching her a great deal in a small amount of time with that gravelly, stimulating voice. Mostly on how to kill as efficiently as possible, but surprisingly, also on the value of a life, and how certain you must be before you take it from someone. Unlike herself and the others, he never boasted on his prowess, in fact he seemed almost ashamed of it. She had come to realize from this, the severity of what their job actually was, how they ended other people's lives for a living, while doing their best not to lose their own in the process.

Miyu valued Six for what he taught her, both with his words and as a result of merely living with them for as long as he had. It would not bother her to realize that the rest of her life very well might include Six in it. That had been the moment when she had recognized the extent of her attachment to him. She wanted for nothing when he was near, and felt as if she had all she ever needed. He was a fascinating conversationalist, when he actually mustered the desire to speak more than a handful of words. She imagined he had no end of captivating tales to tell and advice to give.

Perhaps, she did not love him quite as Krystal did, the vixen being the most emotional between the two of them, but she cared for him in her own way. It was true, his physique was a lusty bonus, but that had never been her prime motivator, in fact she had started to feel this way long before he fully revealed himself. No. She had been far more interested in the who not the what, that had been under his armor.

Her musing was interrupted, Miyu slowly noticing the hardening of Krystal's expression, and felt a small upwelling of unease. Krystal was not a violent person, but it was possible she was willing to change that, if only for a moment.

Yet, rather than leaping out to attack her as Miyu was beginning to anticipate, the vixen released a slow, heavy sigh, smoothing out her raised fur, seemingly collecting her thoughts.

"Well Miyu, this creates somewhat of a problem." Krystal frowned, drastically understating her opinion. "Six is... very important to me. And I distinctly recall informing you that he was already claimed, yet, you go off and do something like this. So tell me, what exactly did you do? And leave nothing out. I will know if you try."

Realizing this might be her best and only chance to explain herself in a way that would allow her to keep this friendship. Miyu was careful in how she would word herself.

And hopefully, she just might survive this.

*****

 

With an abrupt huff, Fox suddenly regained consciousness. Muddled and disorientated, the confused vulpine took a glance at his surroundings as he tried to recall what he had been up to before unexpectedly falling asleep. Slowly piecing past events together, he remembered that he and Six had stopped at a bar, and as he looked around he realized he was still there.

But where was Six?

A more detailed observation of the room revealed that the spartan had not left his seat. Rather the large human sat idle on the stool, crimson eyes locked firmly on the bar top. And judging from the furrowed brow, he was deep in thought, as the spartan seemed prone to.

"Six?" Fox croaked questioningly, throat dry as a bone. While he thankfully had not drunken enough to receiver a hangover, he had gained a parched mouth for his troubles, along with a complimentary case of dragon's breath.

Shifting his head, Six regarded the vulpine with the barest trace of a smile. "Ah Fox, you are awake earlier then I had anticipated. It has only been..." He glanced at the device on his wrist, "four hours since you passed out."

"Four hours?" He mumbled in shock, violently lurching up in his seat. "Why didn't you wake me up?" He didn't really have any plans today, but sleeping it off in the bar would not have been one of them.

The spartan shrugged calmly, unbothered by his companion's tone of alarm. "I saw no reason to interrupt your slumber. You do not get enough sleep as it is. You let your concerns weight far too heavily on your thoughts, Fox. The sooner you understand that some things are just out of your control, the better off you'll be."

 

As much as he wanted to, Fox could not hold it against him. The spartan spoke the truth; however he was surprised that Six saw through him so easily. He thought he kept a better handle on his emotions, though he should have known someone like Six would have no difficult doing so.

"Well... I guess I should thank you." Fox grumbled in false reluctance. Honestly, he did feel better after that. Leave it to Six to know exactly what he needed.

"That would be appreciated." The spartan nodded, the vulpine unable to tell whether he was being serious or not.

"Then there you have it, my thanks. Now then," he slid off his stool. "Let's head back. I think we've been gone long enough. You don't want to keep Krystal waiting after all, right?"

"No... I would not." Six replied, a thoughtful tone in his usually gruff voice.

Fox imagined there was much they had to talk about. And once again, he was thankful for his relatively uncomplicated life.

Leaving a fistful of credits on the counter, he and Six stepped out of the bar and headed down the street. Surprisingly, the sun was still up, though Fox could see that it was not far from setting. It would be dark in a few hours.

Another day well spent in his book. He now understood Six a little better, and just might have helped the spartan through a few unresolved issues, and a few of his own for that matter. He supposed he should take Six's advice. If the spartan told him he needed to relax, then he definitely had to. As Six said, there was nothing he could do, and he was only hurting himself in the end. And Fara as well, he had been trying to hide it from her, but he knew she suspected something was going on. He had always been terrible at keeping secrets, especially from her. She was just too damn observant sometimes. But this was one secret he would remain tightlipped about, no matter how hard she pressed. Not just because he had been ordered to, but it would break his heart to tell her that the hard-won peace they had just attained might be fleeting. That the war they had just fought was light in comparison to the one the Aparoids would bring.

And if luck was on their side she would never have to know.

Damn, he wished he didn't know.

But such was the weight of responsibility. How did Six keep such a composed façade against such terrible news? Indeed how did he keep so calm after enduring the hardships he faced? The spartan had been thrown from his war ravaged life, only to be forced into an alien world and another conflict that was not even his own, played a key role in this war, only to learn that another, even more desperate campaign just might await him.

As reluctant as he was to admit, his friend's recent troubles amused him greatly. Six had never baulked at the call to battle, yet give him a relationship crisis and he all but fell to pieces. Fox decided that he would never find another individual quite as unique as Six.

And despite the spartan's peculiarity, Fox could not ask for a better brother-in-arms. It was comforting to know, especially with the possible approach of a war much worse than its predecessor, that he had someone like Six to rely on. He could trust that the human soldier would do all in his power to see to their safety, and it was heartening that one so strong considered him a person worthy of protection and trust. Six instilled in him the confidence to believe that they could make it through another war.

Deep in thought, he barely noticed that the spartan had stopped moving, the vulpine having taken several steps past him. Curious, Fox looked to his friend and noticed that Six's gaze was focused on the opposite side of the street, on to a pair of figures moving the opposite way.

Without a word Six suddenly shifted back into motion, crossing the road on a path to meet up with the pair. Confused and mildly interested, Fox quickly matched the spartan's pace, wondering who would attract his attention. As far as he knew, Six didn't consort with anyone outside the team, at least willingly. And he almost never left the villa.

Fox followed and watched as the spartan quickly ate up the distance separating him and the two citizens, noticing upon closer inspection that they appeared to be a mother and child. This new information only inflamed his inquisitiveness.

As Six neared they seemed to have at last detected that he was coming, and the woman glanced over her shoulder, thusly freezing up at the tall human's approach. Fear and uncertainty crossed her muzzle as she watched this apparent stranger move towards her and her child, the feline pulling the young cub closer to her chest protectively. The child just gazed up at the human in wonder, having never seen anyone like him before.

This put Fox on guard, the vulpine hoping he wasn't about to be an accomplice to something. Yet he knew Six and trusted he had a reason for doing this.

Six finally stopped a few feet away from the woman, staring down at them curiously.

"Mira?" He grunted curiously.

Hearing such a unique speech pattern, the woman recognized it quite easily, surprise and relief washing over her muzzle. "S-Six... is that you?" She had only ever seen the spartan but once, and he had been in armor. But that was voice was unmistakable, she had never heard one like it before, deep and grating, yet undeniably pleasant to the ears.

With the knowledge that this was not a stranger, but the peculiar, albeit interesting male she had encountered some weeks ago, any sense of anxiety was replaced by a small measure of happiness as she recalled their conversation fondly. 

"I must say, without armor you are not quite what I expected." She spoke as she released her tense grip on Baxter, the young cub grinning up at the human as he remembered the odd armored giant that had made his mom smile.

"Hi Six!" The young hybrid happily waived at him with an energetic paw.

"Baxter." Six acknowledged the cub with a tilt of his head and a not so forced smile. There was something... calming, about seeing the kid again.

Needless to say, Fox was stunned. "You know these two?" He looked up to Six in shock. He had never figured Six to make friends with a few random citizens.

"Oh my..." Mira gasped softly, recognizing Six's associate with a delighted grin. "You're Fox Mccloud!"

Deciding to postpone his usual resigned sigh considering they were friends of Six, the vulpine nodded, offering his best smile in return. "Yeah, that's me."

"It's an honor to meet you." The feline mother offered her paw and the vulpine accepted, giving it a gentle shake.

"The honor is all mine. After all, any friend of Six is a friend to me."

Fox's smile widened further as the young hybrid enthusiastically stepped away from his mother and towards him. "Wow Mister Mccloud, I'm your biggest fan. Can you sign my shirt?" To which he grabbed the collar and extended it forwards.

"Sure kid." Fox reached into his pocket and retrieved the pen he always carried for moments like this. "To my number one fan...." He mumbled, tracing his words on the white polo. Despite his accustomed reluctance, Fox enjoyed meeting the children. The little balls of fur and energy always brought a smile to his muzzle.

"Thanks, you're the best. As soon as I'm old enough I'll be a pilot, just like you!"

His grin widened. "Keep that enthusiasm and one day you might find yourself on my team."

The little hybrid gasped. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I think so." Fox turned his head to Six. The spartan had been speaking with the mother while he talked with the kid. Ever the nosy one, Fox swiveled his ears in their direction, picking up the tail end of their conversation.

"It was... nice, to see you again." Six rumbled lowly.

The feline grinned up at him, tail flicking merrily behind her. "I hope you can make this a habit, Six."

The spartan raised an eyebrow.

"Dropping in out of nowhere that is." Mira elaborated, giggling at his puzzled expression. His peculiar mannerism amused her to no end. He was certainly a strange one. Yet, there was something... engaging about him, his presence. He was like no one she had ever met before.

"I will try then... to make this a... habit." The spartan replied, having some difficulty wording himself. Mira was an interesting individual. He had learned something about civilian life from her. Perhaps if he spent more time around the woman, he would be able to learn more. Then he might be better prepared to give Krysta. What she deserved.

"You know..." Her attitude seemed to change, the motherly feline suddenly having a difficult time making eye contact with the spartan. "You made quite the impact on Baxter. He tells all his friends about the 'robot that wasn't really a robot'; he met on his way to the park one day."

She chuckled softly. "And I must admit, he's not the only one." Reaching in her purse, Mira pulled out a notepad, jotting down something on the paper before holding it out for him.

The spartan retrieved it, glancing at the sheet before placing it in his pocket.

"That's got my number and address if you feel like stopping by, or maybe if you just want to give a call. I work from nine o'clock to five during the week. Feel free to call any time before or after that."

Six nodded thoughtfully, storing the information for later. "I will be sure to remain in touch."

That was the proper response, wasn't it?

Fox grinned like an idiot, clearly seeing what the spartan was not. Seriously, what was with him and women? But the best part had to be how oblivious the human was to all this attention. The vulpine knew that Six was going to have a very interesting, complicated life. And he could not help but believe the spartan deserved it.

It was about time the poor guy had something going for him.

Not soon afterwards, Six and Fox made their goodbyes. But before they left, the vulpine invited them to come by their place some time so that they could meet the rest of the team, to which the kid was completely ecstatic.

Fox watched as they left, catching a glimpse of Six's expression out of the corner of his eye. He was making that face, the one the vulpine liked to call the 'deep in thought'.

"Well, that was certainly interesting. Make any other friends without me knowing?"

"No." The spartan grunted impartially, shifting his boots to resume walking in the direction previously, before they had takin this detour.

With a loose grin and a shake of his muzzle, Fox followed after Six, wondering how exactly how the supersoldier was able to do so much without his notice.

"So you say Six... so you say."

 

*****

 

Keys jingled softly as Fox pushed the door open, the spartan stooping in after him with the setting sun at their backs. Glancing at his communicator, Fox summarized that the team had eaten some time ago and was likely in their rooms for the night. And judging from the lack of destruction he could safely assume Krystal and Miyu had at least not jumped at each other's throats, not too violently anyways.

He bid the human goodnight, the supersoldier slowly making his way into the lodge.

He was not jealous of Six at the moment, he could only imagine what the poor spartan would have to deal with in the coming days, maybe even tonight if he was that unlucky. What the team needed right now, or rather a select few needed, was a distraction. Thankfully one had been provided for them.

Pepper had a mission lined up. Mercifully, it was nothing too crazy like what they were accustomed to. He recalled the brief conversation he had with Pepper moments after Six left the room. Remnants of Oikonny's forces, the ones that had not surrendered that is, had been sighted at the edge of the Fortuna sector. Preliminary analysis revealed only a small detachment, nothing they couldn't handle, especially with Six. He suspected to have it all wrapped up in a few days at the most, just something to get the proverbially blood pumping. 

He would have to postpone the whole bar idea he had been dreaming up though, slating it for when they returned. And hopefully by then, Krystal and Miyu would have everything settled. It might have been a bad idea at the time anyways. Bars tended to not be the best place to be when dealing with this kind of stuff. Alcohol and resentment were not the best of friends, and when they came together nothing ever ended well.

Fox was glad to have only Fara's attention. After all, you can have too much of a good thing, despite what most naïve people say.

Sighing at the complexity of inter team romance, Fox made way down to his bedroom, thankful that out of all this he at least had his room returned to him. He didn't mind Six's company, in fact if the spartan had not found his own sleeping arrangement with Krystal, he would have gladly put in a second bed. However, he now had privacy if he wanted to bring Fara back around, something that would have definitely been awkward beforehand.

But that was not his only concern at the moment. He had to check up on the rest of the team as well. He had been too preoccupied with Six's unfortunate situation to talk with Falco and the others. And Fox hoped to do that over the course of their new contract. He remembered Slippy saying something about possible improvements to their arsenal and equipment, and Falco had been rather distant as of late. Fox was certain something had come up to distract him.

And well, he and Peppy had already reached an understanding, though ever since learning about the aparoids he had been pushing for the old hare to reconnect with his daughter.

All in all he had a heap of issues on his plate, and Fox could not help but wonder how his father had dealt with all of this. Perhaps that was why his dad had always kept a reasonably small team. If Starfox kept expanding as it did, pretty soon he would have to see about getting a genuine second-in-command. He had no wish to dump such a load on Krystal, especially considering the vixen had enough on her mind as is.

Thankfully, he already had a candidate, one he had been considering for a while. One he suspected would be perfectly suited for the job. 

Fox's thoughts carried him into his bedroom and the vulpine quickly undressed and slipped into bed, yet he could not find the rest he so desperately needed.

There was still so much to worry about, the state of the military, what might happen if the aparoids arrived. How many innocents would die in the ensuing conflict? Could they even beat them? Would his team make it through intact? How many times would he be forced to say goodbye?

You let your concerns weight far too heavily on your thoughts, Fox. The sooner you understand that some things are just out of your control, the better off you'll be.

Six's voice suddenly popped in his head, the vulpine once more seeing the wisdom in the spartan's words. It was true. He could no nothing to answer these questions. The faster he accepted this fact, the better off he'll be.

And soon enough, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

 

*****

 

Six stopped just outside Krystal's room.

Or rather our room I suppose. He sighed uncertainly.

The spartan found it difficult to reach out to the keypad, dreading the upcoming conversation he knew to be waiting. He hardly understood the events that had transpired between him and Miyu, so how could he answer the questions that no doubt would be expected of him?

He had spent a long while considering his position and how best to formulate his response. Yet those hours of deep thought had offered him little for his musing. In the end Six supposed it would be best to remain straightforward and direct, a path that had served him well in the past. Truth would be his ally here.

Normalcy came with a price it seemed, a fee he would have to adapt towards as he paid. Six only hoped that in the end, the benefits would out way his doubts. Evidence of this was already visible and offered him comfort that the choices he had been making so far were the right ones.

She was far worth the uncertainties and fears that followed her. Krystal opened his mind to a world that revolved around more than war. And he would always be grateful, even if he did not express his gratitude openly.

His resolve reaffirmed, Six activated the door switch and stepped inside.

The room was not a large one, and he quickly found her, the vixen's legs folded elegantly underneath her as she sat on the bed, her lively emerald eyes regarding him with unguarded mirth. 

Six paused in the doorway, not expecting to see such a cheerful demeanor from her.

Was he not in trouble?

Confused, Six sullenly drew near, like a scolded hound approaching its master, Krystal being the only one capable of making him feel such a way. The spartan had no master, but she was closest to his heart, and what the vixen thought of him mattered more to Six then any order he had ever, or was likely ever to receive.

Once he was within arms distance, he started to speak.

"Krystal... I." The spartan felt a fuzzy finger press against his lips, shushing him in his tracks.

Silently the vixen stared up at him, her compassionate eyes neither judging nor condemning. Craning her muzzle forwards, she affectionately brushed her soft lips against his cheek in the briefest of caresses.

She pulled away unhurriedly, revealing a modest, sincere smile as she shifted in the bed. Making herself comfortable, the vixen lifted the blanket beckoningly. 

The tentative frown on Six's face was quickly washed away by a faint smile of his own as he moved to obey her silent invitation.

In that moment, his past was the last thing on his mind.


	22. Truth

Chapter 20: Truth

"What is it that you are so eager to show me?" Six demanded, slightly bemused as Slippy all but dragged him towards engineering. The toad had suddenly appeared and appropriated him from a most entertaining conversation with Falco on the merits of various types of weaponry, only promising him that what he had to say was of more importance.

Taking the toad at face value he decided to tag along, begrudgingly.

On the morning preceding their talk at the bar, Fox informed the team that they would be returning once again to Fortuna on a hunt for venomian remnants. The CDF had done a commendable job in clearing out the majority of the scattered fragments of Oikonny's forces. But upon learning that those remaining were once more consolidating, Pepper wanted them to nip the problem before it could grow too out of control. And with the bulk of military assets focused on the reformations, it was only logical for Starfox to be the ones to take the job.

Six had spent the first few days in transit, reacquainting himself with his armor and whatever firearms remained in his possession. The repairs had finished and all that remained was the paint, which he would see to once time was made available. Ammo for his UNSC munitions was deep in the red, and he had yet to touch the Covenant arms he had looted back on Reach. In all honesty he had no desire to have them linger under his care. He had never been a fan of their weaponry, far too much misery attached. Besides which, he found cornerian blaster tech to be far more agreeable, preferring its precision and reliability. Perhaps he would hand them over to Falco; the avian had been eyeing the exotic equipment ever since he pulled them out of storage.

"Just wait, it's a surprise."

The sound of the toad's excited voice brought him back to the present.

Lowering his eyes, Six watched as Slippy quickly glided into the workshop, entering in after him. The amphibian was dead set on a table in the very back, a large dark blue tarp obscuring the item underneath.

"This is it?" He asked, eyeing the table dubiously. He had been expecting something a little more... grandiose, given the toad's usual style.

Rather than put down by the spartan's tone, Slippy nodded expectantly, quickly yanking the canvas to the deck, revealing what he had spent so long working on.

"This is it." The toad replied in none too self-impressed tone.

Six's eyes widened fractionally as he gradually lowered a hand to run across the strange, yet unmistakably familiar object. While the design had been altered to a great extent, he had carried the trademark rifle through the years and across a thousand different battlefields. He would recognize its like anywhere.

"This is... my rifle." He grunted frankly.

"Yep, took me quite a bit longer than expected, but I did just as I said I would." Slippy extended a webbed hand and ran it across the now considerably larger weapon with pride. "Honestly, the comprehensive renovation of the interior mechanisms is what appropriated most of my time, had to gut the original components in order to fit in all that new tech. And due to the successive and enormous power limitations, I had to make it a little bit bigger then you probably remember it being."

"Power limitations?" Just what exactly had the toad done?

Slippy smacked his forehead. "Right of course that would be new since the previous version was entirely gas operated. Basically," He gestured to the gun, specifically the stock, which was thicker than a typical MA37. "I installed a power cell here, which feeds into the energy converter built into what had been the receiver, and consequently imparting the rounds departing the chamber with both kinetic and thermal properties."

Six understood what the toad was saying, it bringing a slight grin to his face. "It's a hybrid."

The toad returning grin was much wider. "Got it in one, Six. This beauty utilizes ballistic and energy based technology, fusing the best of both worlds into a single deadly weapon. A solitary shot from this rifle can effortlessly pierce heavy armor while simultaneously melting through solid plating. Though, an accurate volley could hypothetically shred through most light vehicles. Oh, and I examined the bullets you gave me and dug around the history books, 7.62x51mm, pretty decent for its time. However, I hope you don't mind if I took some creative liberties with this project. Because that just didn't seem... sufficient, for a guy like you. So I did a little extra digging and found a caliber more suited for your capabilities.

Slippy opened the table's drawer and retrieved a metal cylinder, offering it to Six.

Curious, the spartan examined what he realized was a bullet, and one of quite a high caliber if his eyes did not deceive him.

"I present to you the 12.7x108mm, a considerably more powerful round and easier for me to produce here on the ship. I traced its roots to pre-blaster era heavy machineguns and anti-material weaponry. Of course I gave it the expected fine tuning, adding a few modern tweaks. Put this and your new and improved rifle together, and what you get is a weapon that can not only take out light vehicles, but heavy armor as well."

"I admit. I am impressed, Slippy. You have exceeded my already high expectations." While by no means able to turn the tide by itself, if such a weapon had existed during the war with the Covenant, it would have granted the UNSC a much needed edge. 

"Well don't go heaping praise just yet." He reluctantly confessed." There are a few drawbacks. Due to the power of each shot and size of the casing, the rifle shouldn't be fired continuously and has an unusually small magazine size for an assault weapon, with only about twenty-five rounds a mag. I did install quite a few heat sinks, which is what takes up most of the extra space inside the gun and accounts for its increased size and weight. Prolonged and sustained fire can potentially overheat it in a most catastrophic and unwelcome way. Meaning, the gun would literally explode, releasing temperatures up in the high thousands to anyone standing within fifteen feet."

Six paused, his hand halting just below the trigger guard. "That would be... unfortunate."

"Yeah, to you and any unlucky individual nearby."

"Still, the benefits outweigh the risks. Thank you for this gift, Slippy. I shall use it well." With almost reverential care, Six respectfully lifted the substantially heavier gun, choosing to carry it with him until he was able to store it alongside the rest of his gear. They still had some time before they reached the mission area, perhaps he would use it to acquaint himself with his newest addition.

Slippy sighed apologetically. "One more bit of bad news though. I had to scrap your pistol for parts in order to complete this. I needed the extra materials to update the receiver."

The spartan shrugged. Compared to this, the loss of his magnum was inconsequential. Moreover, he could always choose a suitable replacement from the impressive weapons lock-up onboard the ship. Or maybe he would ask Miyu for a blaster, she seemed to know what size he needed. Though, Six was reluctant to converse with her. As of yet, they had not spoken since the incident, the cat keeping her distance for the moment.

In response to his curiosity, Krystal had told him that they merely had a talk to clear things up. Six was not so certain it had been that simple but had long ago learned that some things were best left to the imagination. He was just glad it was not a problem any longer.

With a few lingering words of thanks, Six exited the toad's workshop, pilfering the case of magazines that Slippy had manufactured for it. The spartan decided to return to the armory and practice with his new weapon. It would have to be calibrated and he would need to study its inner workings in order understand what kind of maintenance it would require.

In transit, he found Fay heading towards the upper decks, the young canine seemingly preoccupied with something as she hardly noticed him pass by. He was half tempted to engage in a conversation with her seeing as they scarcely interacted on a routine basis. But he refrained from pursing such a course of action, she would approach him in her own time, and he would do his best to be as non-threatening as possible, for a spartan.

*****

Fox studied his communicator, a half-finished plate of food sitting forgotten on the table as he scrolled through an apparently endless report. He was the only one left in the common room, the rest of the crew having finished up long before him. The vulpine was glad that Six was starting to assume a more active role amongst them, increasing the frequency with which he sat down and ate with the others, though he hypothesized it was more for Krystal's benefit than any other reason. If not for her he imagined the spartan would not even be putting half as much effort into mingling as he did now.

Though recently, they had been down a member.

Miyu hadn't shown up as usual, choosing to abstain from communal dining as she had for the last couple of days. The feline now mostly kept to herself, just like Six had not long ago. He could only deduce it had something to do with the clash of likeminded interests between her and Krystal.

Thankfully the hostilities between the women had ceased, at least while in the presence of polite company. He wasn't sure what occurred behind closed doors. It was their feud that gave him thought for the upcoming mission. Fox didn't know whether to put both women on the roster. He would never think they would intentionally try to harm each other, but with a distraction like that it was hazardous to put them together in a fight.

Maybe he could talk with each of them personally and figure out if he could. But honestly he was reluctant to take such a step. He wasn't so sure a heart-to-heart would be sufficient in ending their rivalry.

Shit, it shouldn't even be his concern in the first place. But as team leader he had to find these things out and patch the holes if he wanted to keep this group afloat. The fact they were his friends only convoluted an already complex situation. 

Sighing, Fox drummed his paw on the table, his irritability filling the air with an intermittent, disjointed tune.

"Something on your mind, Fox?"

Taking his gaze off the device on his wrist, he looked up.

"Miyu? To what do I owe the pleasure for gracing me with your presence?"

"Hunger." The cat replied, shrugging casually as she sat down across from him, a tray of food in her paws. "Last I heard food was the best at getting rid of that."

Fox chuckled. It was good to see that she was just as snarky as ever.

"Who would've thunk it?"

"I know right?"

The feline picked at her meal for a few moments before she spoke again. "What you got going there?" She directed her fork at his communicator.

"Just some information Pepper gave me before we headed out, some estimation on the probable numbers of venomian remnant fleet strength."

"Must make for an entertaining read." She stated, brow raised questioningly.

"Oh you have no idea." He muttered through false joviality. 

With a shared chuckle, they lapsed back into silence as Fox did his best to commit the data to memory for the upcoming briefing. They would arrive in the Fortuna sector within the day, though he was debating on whether or not to take one or two before setting out, give the team a little more time to prepare. The extra time wouldn't change anything and he hoped to get a little more work done around the ship.

One thing about running a small crew, it became a pain in the ass to maintain a ship of this size. Thankfully Slippy proved more than adequate in taking up those duties, but as of late the toad had been bogged down by a hundred little projects he had in various stages of completion scattered through his workshop. And with Fay around, they were just able to keep everything running smoothly.

Everyone had a duty on the ship, Miyu took care of the armory, though more often than not she was able to con Falco into doing it for her. Peppy managed inventory, food, ammunition, fuel, all the stuff needed to keep the team going, accomplishing this again with Falco's help. Rob acted as navigator, Krystal kept team spirits up, and he himself guided this motley crew.

Even after all this time, he wasn't quite sure where Six fit in, an awkwardly shaped piece in the team's grand puzzle. He supposed the spartan was their one man army, their indomitable trump card in case a situation ever went sour. As of late, he felt that their current success rate would not exist if Six had never arrived. The battle in Corneria's orbit, Zoness, Fortuna, Six was the key to victory in each of those situations. Without him, the end result would either have been far worse or plain disastrous.

The spartan made an impact wherever he went, whether on the field of battle, a passing conversation, or simply moving down the street. Whomever he touched did not remain the same. There was a substantial weight to his presence; the very air around him heavy with a power he radiated on instinct alone. Six was an unmovable force that no manner of bizarre circumstance could topple. When he spoke, it was in a voice that demanded you listen. And he was knowledgeable, far beyond his years. Yet all of things had come with a price, one the spartan had at last confided in him.

He had endured misery unlike any in this system had ever experienced before in order to earn these remarkable traits. And these psychological wounds ran deep. Yet he persevered beyond his suffering, unwilling or unable to do anything otherwise.

So it was not all that surprising that he was able to entice so much unsolicited attention. A vortex seemed to follow him, dragging in anyone that drew near, even though he remained so thoroughly blind to this.

Although. It seemed as if this was finally catching up to him. Heated emotions clashed as both Miyu and Krystal tried to reach the center of this mysterious spartan, who unfortunately was far too naïve to realize this. If he did, Fox was certain Six would have severed his ties with either woman in order to put it at an end. The human did not want others to hurt because of him. That much became clear to Fox in the time he had spent with him.

The lives of others meant more to him than that of his own, and this saddened Fox greatly. What life was that to live? Considering one's existence only as valuable as the price you could trade it for. This was what his people made him, and Fox was glad he had managed to escape such a dismal situation. Here he could hope to have more, to learn that his being was not something to give away, but something that enriched those he interacted with.

Six had already changed his life, gave him new confidence in his capabilities as a leader and revealed to him what any good man should hope to aspire to be. And Fox knew he had done so much more for Krystal and Miyu then the spartan had for him.

The spartan inspired people, motivating them to become better than their pasts. Everyone in Starfox had a story, a wounded history. Perhaps that was what pulled them all so close together, made them the mismatched family they had turned out to be. Maybe it was the very reason why Six was able to fit in as successfully as he had.

All Fox knew for certain, was that the spartan had at last found a home for himself with those that actually cared for him. And the vulpine intended to keep it that way, for Six just as much as the others.

After all, that's what family's for.

*****

The assault rifle in his gauntlets ran dry with a sputtering finality, the last of his ammunition just barely sufficient in shattering the onrushing sangheili's shields. Flipping the now useless weapon, the spartan swung it at his adversary with enough power to violently wrench the alien's mandibled skull with a meaty crunch, the gun exploding into fragmented alloy in his gauntlets.

As the Covenant soldier dropped lifeless scant inches from his armored boots, Six snatched the fallen plasma repeater sent skittering across the ground towards him. In the same motion he raised the alien plasma weapon, sighting another elite charging towards him, the saurian bellowing a fearsome warcry in its extraterrestrial tongue as it sought to plunge its energy dagger into the vulnerable armor mesh around his throat.

A flurry of plasma bolts cut the ravenous creature down before it posed a genuine threat. Six clenched the trigger, raking the weapon back and forth to mow down the horde of grunts suicidaly rushing his position.

Pain flared in his gauntlet, signaling the weapon's overheat mechanism so the spartan tossed it like a grenade, flicking the magnum in his left hand and firing the last round round into the overloaded gun.

Light flashed briefly, a wave of heat rolling over his shields as the makeshift bomb cooked a brute that had tried to claim the glory of his death for itself. Flinging the spent pistol, he crushed the chest of a jackal sniper trying to find a flanking position on the rooftop of the small military compound.

Turning to what little cover that was left, a howling screech crashed down beside him, sending the spartan tumbling to the ground, his shield's screaming in retaliation. Adrenal glands surging, Six vaulted forwards, barely evading the next shot sent hurtling from the wraith tank's plasma mortar.

He felt his spinal armor as it boiled. The heavy plating ripped away under the intense heat, the crackle of molten glass crunching under foot as he threw his legs into overdrive. Spying a grunt wielding a bronze and emerald cylinder on its shoulder, Six tackled the diminutive alien to the dirt, its bone snapping like dry tinder underneath his immense weight. Appropriating the Covenant fodder's fuel rod cannon, Six swiftly spun on his heels and emptied the remainder of the radiated clip into the purplish assault tank hovering towards him.

Verdant energy plowed sunken craters in the wraith's hull and Six utilized the handful of seconds he had bought to roll, a hollow divot of glassed earth left cooling in his wake.

Legs coiled with barely restrained power, he leapt upwards, landing on the hover tank's battered frame. Curling a fist he smashed it through the weakened plating to wrap his armored fingers around the throat of the brutish driver.

The faux simian roared in frenzy induced rage, yet Six only dug his fingers deeper, puncturing thick fur and leathery skin until he closed them around something soft and meaty, the brute's howls reduced to little more than a whimpering gargle. Wrenching his arm backwards in a violent shower of crimson gore, he relieved the ape of its means of communication. As the jiralhanae struggled to breath with a hole in its esophagus, Six reached inside with his free hand and maneuvered the tank. Slamming the large brightly lit button, he sent a blob of boiling plasma into a crowd of elites, a spray of severed limbs signifying his success.

Activating the grenade on the brute's bandolier, he leaned backwards and rolled nimbly off the tank, the vehicle detonating in a blinding display of heat and sound.

The corpse of a fallen marine reposed beside him and Six procured the fallen soldier's M45, his Heads Up Display showing seven shells left. Before he could scrounge any more of the corpse he was forced to engage the trio of sangheili that came crashing down from the bays of a phantom, a small crowd of grunts lingering reluctantly behind them.

Weaving through the weapons fire from all three elites, he swiftly closed the gap between them. Refusing to waste even a single move, the spartan plunged the scattergun forwards, using it like a stunted lance. The barrel of the gun smashed into the lead elite's chest as he pulled the trigger. The point blank shot completely ignored the unfortunate Covenant warrior's shield, superheated buckshot blowing a hole through its stomach. Releasing the M45's pump, he caught the forend of a plasma rifle as it was brought crashing down and with a grunt of exertion, forced it to smash into the attacker's head, briefly stunning the alien. 

Dropping the M45, he grabbed the falling weapon and racked the slide, switching his hold to the grip. Now loaded, he ducked under a plasma round and rammed the shotgun upwards, lodging the barrel in the upper palate of the sangheili to his right, pulling the trigger.

His vision was suddenly blinded, visor caked in gristly purple viscera.

The spartan gasped, staggering and snarling in pain as he felt a spear of white hot pain dig into his side. Arrogant, barking laughter to his left told the story, the last elite having found a second to impale him on the tip of its energy dagger. Thrusting his elbow backwards, Six silenced the chortling sangheili, its laughter replaced with hoarse cough. 

Still blinded by the previous elite's brain matter, Six used his ears to locate the final one. Shotgun not yet ready to fire, he instead threw himself backwards, forcing both himself and the surprised elite to the ground. On top, he continued to use his elbow, repeatedly driving it into the alien's chest until he felt it start to give. Priming his arm for one last hit, he hammered it down with as much power as he could bring to bear, driving his elbow through armor, flesh, and bone. With one last shudder, the creature ceased moving,

Groaning, Six rolled off the corpse and dug his bloodied gauntlets into Reach's charred soil, shards of glass filling his palms and slicing deep into his gloves as his fists curled with rage. On his knees, he wiped the sticky layer of dirt and blood from his visor, a nearly impossible task with gauntlets already discolored with gore.

Gazing through the stained and cracked transparent titanium, Six was greeted by a crimson sky, the looming colossus of a Covenant supercarrier hovering overhead, its sheer size and scope allowing it to be visible, even in high orbit. The fields surrounding the desert compound were littered with a sea of corpses, both UNSC and Covenant in origin, the location for their last stand of defiance. The burned hulks of scorpion tanks intermingled with twisted longswords, wrecked pelicans and broken warthogs. 

A scarab lay shattered in the distance, a testament to the tenacity of humankind in the face of adversity. In the sky, the last UNSC vessel slowly fell to the surface, fragmenting into molten hunks of steel, its size denoting it as the supercarrier that had led the fallen world's hopeless defense.

Six felt nothing as he observed the fall of humanity, the last bastion in the protection of earth rendered into so much charcoal and ash along with its countless thousands of defenders.

All he felt was a sense of inadequacy, no matter the sacrificed he had made, the end result was as predictable as the sun rising on the eve of the next day. 

Lowering his vision, he watched as a pack of elite's closed in, brightly colored and ornate armor defining them as zealots. The alien's slowed to a stop as they waited for him to stand, no doubt intending to fight honorably.

The spartan's feeling of inadequacy was exchanged for finality as he forced his sore, bloodied body to rise for what he believed was the last time.

If he died, it would not be on his damn knees. 

The successions of sharp snap-hisses signaled the activation of their energy blades, each of the ten aliens ready to spill his blood and gain the perceived honor they so desperately craved. 

Letting the shotgun fall from his grip, Six scanned the corpse strewn ground around him until he found what he was looking for. Reaching down, he grasped the hilt of an energy sword and thumbed the activation rune, the low hum of barely constrained energy emanating from the alien blade.

The foremost zealot gave a nod of approval as it stepped forwards, intending to lead the attack.

"Die well, Demon." Its words were in English, he having shut off his translator some time ago.

Six snarled, clutching the weapon tighter.

"You first."

The ground cracked underneath him as he lunged forwards, their blades meeting in a shower of sparks. The spartan leaned back to avoid the arcing blade of his adversary, rebuffing it with a well-placed retaliatory strike.

Lashing a fist out, he decked the zealot in its mandibled jaw, staggering the hooved beast. A foot was planted on his chest, forcing Six back before he could capitalize on his momentum. He brought his blade down, hoping to sever the elite's foot but his effort was nimby evaded as the zealot spun, energy sword hurtling towards his helmet.

Even with his enhanced speed Six barely managed to deflect the tines of his opponents sword as they grazed across his shoulderplate, instantly dropping his shields. Crouching low, he avoided the following attack, swiping his blade at the sangheili's chest. It moved quickly, but was unable to wholly dodge the retaliation, armor ignited as the energy sword cut a shallow gash into its chest.

Jumping backwards, the zealot brought a four fingered hand to check the wound, it coming back covered in purple blood. Enraged the elite executed a flurry of attacks, Six scarcely able to counter them. The spartan was wounded, tired, and outnumbered, the injury in his side was but one of the many he had endured up to this point and it was taking every ounce of his determination to remain in the fight.

Desperate, he lowered a shoulder and charged forwards, his reckless maneuver catching the alien by surprise as he barreled into its chest with his full weight and knocked the sword from its grasp. This action was not without a price, the spartan feeling a jolt of pain as the zealot's blade scraped across his helmet, slicing through the visor and cutting into his check before it was sent to the ground out of reach.

HUD flickering in and out of focus, he fought for control of his sword as the sangheili had clamped its arm on his wrist, the blade hanging millimeters from its chest. His ribs creaked in agony as the elite's other fist crashed against the wound fresh in his side and Six knew he could not last for too much longer.

Its black eyes glared hatefully into his visor, the zealot no longer speaking in English as it howled in its home tongue.

Oh shut up.

Craning his helmet backwards, he collided with the elite's mandibled jaws in a desperate attempt to disrupt its grip on him. Its hold only faltering for a moment, Six continually rammed his helm against its skull, crystalline fractures lacing their way down his already damaged visor, clouding it with his own blood with alarming frequency. 

Giving one last mighty strike, his visor shattered, showering the elite in titanium shards, half of which embedded themselves in the spartans face as he lost vision in his left eye. But the zealot flinched and his grip was lost, not a moment later Six plunged the energy sword into the alien's chest, pinning it to the ground as it howled in pain.

Before he even had the time to get up Six found himself deflecting the prongs of another zealot, the death of one of their own seemingly urging them to act in force. Compelled to retreat backwards under the heavy assault, he found the shotgun that had been discarded and wielded it in his free hand. Depth perception had taken a hit, but it did not stop him from flooring the next elite to get close, blood pooling through the cracks in its broken armor.

Powering a swing to his left he beat back the rush of another zealot, forcing his blade through its throat as he battered another aside with the barrel of the M45. The number proved difficult to fight against and Six was quickly encircled, fighting tooth and claw to take as many of the bastards with him as he could. Around him, a legion of Covenant soldiers waited, intending to finish the job should the zealots fail.

Another of the fanatical saurians dropped lifeless to the dirt, energy blade sticking from its heart. Not a second later one of its fellows joined it, upper torso blown apart by a close range shotgun blast. Soon the weapon ran dry and Six was required to rely on his sword, cutting down another as it thrust its blade into his collar bone.

Six staggered from the nearly fatal blow, blood spraying from an excruciating, gaping gash newly torn into his neck, he knowing an artery must have been cut to result in such vigorous loss of his vital fluids. Yet before the alien could claim its victory, Six brought up his own blade and severed the muscles in its throat. The remaining aliens pulled back to regroup, and Six did his best to keep his legs from buckling underneath him.

His gauntlets trembled, the sword shivering in his grip as he desperately tried to hold on with increasingly weaker fingers. Blood had all but rendered the hilt a slippery mess. Wasting little time the aliens attacked again, and he slew two more before he felt his death blow land.

Armor stood sundered as an energy sword's heated blade found purchase through his breastplate, impaling him on its ionized tines. Six roared in agonized rage, wrapping his gauntlets around his killer's throat and crushing the life out of the unlucky foe.

The presently lifeless elite collapsed, ripping the blade from the spartan's chest in its dead grip as he too sagged to the blood soaked soil. Six's breathing turned labored, his lungs filling with blood as the spartan buckled, using his last vestements of strength to catch himself before he hit the dirt.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a burning, excruciating ache from a score of open wounds that continuously bled a thick red river through the broken plates of his sundered armor. Such was his agony that he hardly noticed the vicious tug on his collar as one of the surviving zealots seized the nap of his neck in an iron grip, struggling to force his broken helm into the ground in an effort to see him grovel.

The spartan strained against the elite's control, unwilling to bend to his most hated foe. His reward, an energy dagger thrusted into his back, the plasma blade shredded his MJOLNIR and severed his spine.

With that sharp lance of pain everything flashed black.

*****

Six bolted awake in shock, rapidly lurching up from the bed and clutching his bare chest in bewilderment. Visibly shaken, the spartan glanced down, his trembling hand hovering over the spot where an energy blade had punctured his chest, the faint tingle of phantom pain lingering from a wound that had never occurred. The vivid events had been nothing more than an unpleasant dream.

It took a moment for him to realize that his breathing had noticeably spiked, almost as if he had just concluded a long term firefight. His chest glistened in the low light of the bedroom, his body draped in an unfamiliar layer of cold sweat. Six was astounded to feel his heart thundering in his chest, the discordant hammering having never occurred before now. Nothing had ever hit him so deeply and in such a profound way.

Six was both confused and alarmed at the jarring vision that had afflicted his sleep. Sitting in the silence of the shadowy space, he tried to wrap his head around the violently impactful dream. 

This had not been the first time the nightmare came to him in his sleep, but it was certainly the most... intense, nothing like the scattered flashed that had inundated his sleep for the past few weeks. It had felt all too real, as if he had been on Reach not moments ago, fighting in some morose last stand.

The furred heat in bed beside him shifted as Krystal rolled closer, the slumbering vixen nestling up to his side with a soft purr, fuzzy muzzle pressing tenderly against his clammy chest. Her arms drew close, tightening her unconscious hold on him as she snugly pressed him to her breast.

The proximity of the cerulean vixen eased his unexpected surge of agitation. The sight of her peaceful expression, smiling even in sleep, did much to put his traumatized mind at ease. The spartan felt the sudden desire to wake her up. Wanting... No. Needing to hear Krystal's voice, to know that this place was truly real, that everything good that had happened to him was not the fever dream of a dying man.

But the spartan ruthlessly crushed that powerful impulse, not willing to burden her with his insignificant plights. This place was real, it had to be. He could not afford to think otherwise.

Six sighed heavily, eyes closed tight as he allowed himself a brief moment of weakness, his head sinking lower to rest in his unsteady hands. To think, that had been what he wanted before his stranding here, to sacrifice himself in one glorious and final conflict. His greatest aspiration had been to die for humanity, and he still considered it remarkable that his desire for that end had changed, and with the rapidity that it had.

He did not know why he was unceasingly beset by this reoccurring nightmare. Perhaps his subconscious will still craved to fulfill his previous oaths, to achieve what he had been trained his entire life for. It was not lost on him that what he now considered to be a nightmare was what he had once put forth as a reasonable conclusion.

What had changed such firmly held beliefs? The answer was as clear as day.

Krystal.

The spartan opened his eyes, startled to see the vixen's shinning emerald orbs scarcely inches away, her concern visible in those sparkling verdant irises. Six instantly felt ashamed to be seen in such a compromising position, quickly pulling his hands away and straightening up in the bed as the vixen sat up beside him. He could not be seen like this, especially not by her. The spartan was her protector and could not afford to show weakness. Krystal considered him an indomitable individual, and for her that is what he would be, no matter how he felt inside.

"What's the matter? Are you alright, Six?" Worry leaked from the female fox's tone as she studied him, a frown defacing her beautiful muzzle.

Six forced himself into an unnatural smile. "It's nothing. Please do not worry. I was just resting my eyes for a moment."

Krystal knew him far too well to believe that.

"You don't have to lie to me, Six. I can see and feel that something troubles you." She clutched his hand in her paws, wrapping it in padded warmth as she gave him a reassuring squeeze. "And I know that it has been for some time. So please, tell me. All I want is to help you."

This had been what she and Peppy talked about, and though the hare had suggested she remain out of this. Krystal felt as if that was not a choice she could make.

"I don't wish to burden you." Six turned away, trying to divert her from this topic, to little effect.

Krystal released one of her paws from its grip on his hand, using it too gently guide his eyes back, letting him see the open conviction in hers. "You have not and never will be a burden to me, Six. I love you and I will do whatever I can to help you, be it in battle or simply listening to your words. I am here for you and I always will be."

Six felt his chest constrict, an uneasy smile replacing its false cousin on his scarred visage as he finally understood why humans had always considered love to be the most powerful force in the universe. To know that someone like Krystal would be there for him when he needed her, it was an illuminating moment in his life, one that would change him forever.

Yet as content as he was in this one moment, he could not help but be afraid. If he lost her... he lost everything, purpose, want, happiness, the very will to live. Now that he had what he did, nothing else could replace it. He would lose far more than he had with Reach.

It was a risk, but one well worth taking. 

No longer hesitant, Six pulled her into an embrace, the vixen purring happily as she reciprocated in the experience, tail coiling around them both as they sunk back into the sheets.

"That is all I'll ever need." For once, Six felt that he had a reason to look forward to an end to war. He could learn to accept peace.

As long as he had her he could change.

"Good," the vixen giggled, pleased to hear that. At that moment she could not be happier as all of her dreams were slowly coming true. "Now let's get back to bed. We have a mission tomorrow."


	23. And Reconciliation

Chapter 21: And Reconciliation

 

"All right team, this is how it'll play." The briefing room was silent, all eyes firmly centered on Fox as he stood beside the holo-tank, the three-dimensional map outlining the vast field of spacial debris just at the edge of the sector in a bluish haze. "Intel Pepper gained from the CIB pinpoints a large concentration of Venomian remnant forces rallying deep in Fortuna's local asteroid cluster, stragglers from the battle a few weeks ago. The General wants this mess handled quickly and with discretion. What's left of Venom's leadership is still convening at the capital for the ceasefire negotiations. So we're left on an unpleasant technicality."

"Then why don't the guys in charge order these idiots to disarm?" Miyu demanded. A question similarly reflected in the minds of a majority of those present.

"The Venomian dignitaries have assured Pepper that these forces act without authority. Though personally, I find that hard to believe." Fox replied with an unconvinced role of his eyes.

"Assholes, they just want to make problems for us." Falco growled, voicing just what the vulpine was thinking.

"Say, is the Invasion of Venom still a possibility? Cause the idea is looking more appealing by the second." Fay offered her opinion with a distasteful grimace.

"That's off the table I'm afraid. So we'll just have to make do with these guys. Which brings us back to the point of the matter, how we handle this. Any suggestions?" Fox already had a plan, but he was always open to the team's input. Everyone deserved an equal say in what they did.

"Well, what are we looking at exactly? How many Venomians are hiding out there?" Peppy wondered aloud.

"At least two frigates, Raider-class, with an appropriately sized fighter escort. And with ROB's passive scans, it looks as if they've set up some kind of temporary base of operations on one of the larger asteroids." The map shifted, focusing on a large rock in the center of the cluster, an artificial construct highlighted in bright red. "We are too far away for more detailed imaging, but can expect a garrison of at least a hundred infantrymen, possible armor elements included."

Miyu sighed with false dramatism, the feline slouching gracelessly in her seat. "And once more we're sent through the meat grinder. Tell me again why the navy is distinctly absent for this one."

"The CNDF is still recovering from the war, and Pepper believes we are capable enough to handle this on our own. That being said, I do agree Miyu, it is a daunting task." Fox conceded.

"Daunting is having a fear of heights. No. This? This is just plain suicidal." The cat retorted, none too pleased with another apparently death defying plan by their commander. She had barely escaped the last one alive. A cat could only stretch her luck so far, only oh so many lives she could give.

Fox inhaled sharply, ear flicking in agitation. Miyu had become more vocal in her dissent recently, and it was somewhat frustrating. Still, he had to admit she was not completely wrong and even had reason not to trust his plans anymore. The last one had almost killed her and though he apologized profusely, he knew it would be some time before she let it go. "Your input has been noted. Now," he glanced around the room. "Does any have anything else to say, preferably something more upbeat then Miss Frowny Pants over here."

"I believe this mission to be more than manageable given the teams proficiency." This was the first time Six dained to speak since the meeting started. Clad in his unfamiliar, dark black uniform, the spartan had yet to adorn himself in his exceptionally advanced battle armor. From what Fox gathered, the spartan had just been finishing his renovations before being called up and he was interested to see what the supersoldier had done with it.

"Thank you!" The vulpine acknowledged the spartan with a grin, appreciative of the support, turning to eye Miyu intently. "See, Six is on board."

"Yeah well that's not saying much as no one can really kill him. Six doesn't have anything to worry about, whereas I and the rest as I imagine, are quite prone to dying, as it were."

"Yes. That's where the plan we're trying to come up with comes in to place. With it I hope to avoid all that dying business." Fox muttered dryly.

Miyu prepared another snarky rebuttal when Krystal chose that time to speak.

"Perchance we should hear out what Fox has to say. I am certain he has already come up with something."

Interestingly enough, Miyu almost instantly accepted her words, hesitantly giving Fox a respectful nod to continue.

This momentarily startling him, the vulpine took a moment to recover. "Yes well... thank you Krystal." He cleared his throat quietly. "As I was going to say, I have formulated a strategy for tackling this problem. It is a fairly simple one. The Great Fox is more than a match for the venomian frigates, all it needs is an escort to handle the fighters. Peppy and ROB will of course be commanding our dreadnought. Slippy, Fay, I want you two to provide cover for our ship."

"You got it Fox!"

"We'll do what we can."

They chimed in together.

Fox nodded in satisfaction. "Good, that just leaves the installation on the asteroid. Six, once we have tactical control of the local space, you and Krystal are to push through and make your way to the center of the facility. Recover any data pertaining to how widespread these remnants are. We need locations, numbers, and resources. If you can find it, I want it. Falco and I will provide aerial support in our arwings and try to keep the attention off you. Miyu, you will be on station to assist."

The spartan nodded gravely. "Consider it done, Fox." He was unquestionably unsure with the notion of Krystal coming along with him through what would no doubt be a sequence of intense firefights. But he would not hinder her if she so chose to come with. And he doubted he even could. Instead he would focus his labors on ensuring her safety, at the cost of the mission if need be. Yet he suspected it would not become an issue, a hundred of these venomian soldiers would hardly pose much of a threat. They were unlike the Covenant in the alien hegemony's unassailable power, and he had slain countless of their numbers. Nor would he make the same mistake again should he come face to face with another of their tanks and had already considered several precautions to take in such a scenario. As it stood, Six was fairly confident in the plan.

However, one of them was not happy with their role in this.

"Wait a second, you sidelining me, Fox?" Miyu demanded, clearly affronted by the position she had been dolled. Granted, she didn't wholly agree with Fox's plan. But that sure as hell didn't mean she wasn't willing to fight.

"We need someone ready in case things don't go as planned." Fox made sense but his reply did not state the whole truth. She would be useful helping Six and Krystal, and that is what he would have preferred, yet he could not trust that the two women's disagreements would not endanger their lives. 

It grated at him that he had to make these choices. She was a member of his team, his family. And just as such, he had to look out for their wellbeing, whether they wanted him to or not. And this time, it would be best if she stayed on the sidelines for the time being.

"Come on, that's bullshit and you know it, Fox." The feline growled in open disbelief. "Don't bench me like this." She wanted to be a part of this mission, this distraction. As of late she had spent far too much time brooding about misfortune. The end point of her discussion with Krystal had left her with a lot to think about, too much, to think about. And after that, to put on what was essentially guard duty afterwards... What she needed was a break.

Surprisingly, it was Krystal who came to her aid as mediator.

"If I might interrupt..." The vixen raised a paw for attention, both feline and vulpine turning to her. "Six and I could certainly use assistance with our task. If Miyu could join us, we would not turn down her help."

Besides her, the spartan frowned. He knew they would not require help. He alone would be more than sufficient. Yet as he opened his mouth to voice his opinion, he felt Krystal nudge his boot with her sandal, she giving him a look that went unseen by the others, a look with an obvious inclination.

Let this go.

 

Confused but unwilling to debate the matter with her, he ceased any effort to speak, rationalizing that there was no reason to turn down an extra pair of hands.

Once more, Fox was caught by surprise. He had not expected that she would stick up for Miyu, thinking that their friendship had been strained recently. But if she thought it was alright, then far be it for him to say no. His only concern had been that they could not work together, but if that was not an issue, he had nothing to fear.

"Are you sure?" He tried one last time to let her reconsider, to which the vixen gave a firm nod. "Alright then, if that's the case. Miyu, once Six and Krystal head down follow after them and provide support."

The feline nodded, offering Krystal a submissive, but thankful smile. 

"Any other issues, questions or suggestions?" Fox asked the rest of the team, all of who shook their heads in the negative.

Fox nodded in satisfaction. "Then the mission is greenlit. Peppy, have ROB bring the ship around the asteroid field, but keep us out of sensors range. As for everyone else, mission starts in three hours, which leaves you with that much time to prepare. Once you're ready, head down to the hanger. Dismissed." The vulpine shut off the holo-tank and moved to leave the room, the rest of the team preparing to follow suit.

Six was the first to stand. It would take nearly half that time to suit up and choose the appropriate combat load for the assault. Moreover, Six still had to run a full diagnostic on the sabre's systems. He had little chance to use it since the skirmish above Corneria. The spartan would have to check the fuel levels, ammo hopper, shield emitter, and the armor plating. And that was just to ensure it would function properly. Electronics needed to be updated, weapons had to be calibrated, even the thrusters would need some attention.

He didn't have a full staff of techs to comb over his ship and fine tune it like in the old days, and Slippy would be little help, more of a hindrance truly. It would take more time to teach the toad how to work on the ship then if he simply fixed it himself. Perhaps later, after this mission, he would start to train him. But for now, he had a lot of work to do.

The spartan made it all the way to the door before he stopped, realizing something important. Krystal had not followed him and he would not leave the room without her. Letting Falco past, he looked back to see what was holding her. Both she and Miyu had reached the center of the room before stopping.

At the sight of them standing next to each other, each responsible in some fashion for the constant migraine he suffered... well, it brought around a twinge of uncertainty to Six. The spartan ambiguous as to what was occurring between them. Neither appeared hostile, he seeing none of the recognized signs he took for their respective species' aggression. Tails were free-floating and unrigged, fangs remained unbarred, and their ears were perked, not flat against their skulls. Still, though neither seemed upset, the spartan felt a substantial sigh pass through his lips all the same.

Why did both women cause him such strife?

He supposed it was contention well worth having, his life having taken a most interesting turn since coming here, in ways he would have never been able to fathom. However that did not make it stress-free. He was accustomed to the rigors of tension, or at least he had considered himself once so, some time ago.

But this... this was an altogether different breed of conflict, psychological not physical. It was a battle within his heart, and he did not know if he had the strength to see it through. If he was not careful, he would not like how this ended.

Standing indecisively in the door way, Six waited for her, watching both women intently and hoping to perhaps receive some insight of his own into what was occurring between them. They were important to him, as members of his team, and in Krystal's case, the woman that had offered him a future he could have never hoped to have before. The spartan recognized now that he needed her far more than she needed him. Krystal was strong enough to live without him, did not need him the way he needed her. And he supposed that brought him some degree of comfort, to know that when he died, she would have the strength to endure long after he was gone. He knew what he had with her would not last, as much as he hoped and prayed it would.

He was a spartan.

One day, he would die in battle. His arrival here changed nothing. The spartan-III knew this to be a certainty. Every one of his predecessors and brothers in arms were destined to this dark fate the moment they had been taken. This would not change for him. As long as a war needed to be fought, he would fight it. This was the purpose to which he had been created to fulfill. Peace was a fanciful illusion for the simple minded, a delusion most people craved.

He wished he held their pretentious beliefs.

All sentient beings wanted war, otherwise there would be no need for men like him. He had learned this to be true. Coming here had only reaffirmed this actuality.

Yet, Six would not abhor being incorrect. On the contrary, he would be overjoyed to find himself mistaken. He wanted to have a life with Krystal, wanted to explore the bond with Fox and the others he had felt growing inside him these past few months. The spartan longed to discover what it is that gave the others their purpose once there were no more battles to be fought.

What Six sought were the opportunities ONI, and by extent the UNSC, had denied him. That was why he now fought, the purpose to which he had given himself till he could find theirs.

Though he was deep in thought, both women continued their discussion. It seemed as if Miyu was thanking Krystal for sticking up for her. This contented Six. He did not like seeing them at each other's throats, especially as he was nearly certain he was accountable for their strained relations.

As they talked, Six watched as Krystal focused briefly over the feline's shoulder, her emerald gaze landing on him.

'Don't worry. I'll catch up in a moment.'

 

The vixen's melodious voice fluttered through his head and Six nodded dutifully, offering her a slight smile as he turned to leave. She did not often communicate through her mysterious powers, mostly out of understanding that it unsettled him. He had yet to get used to the fact the women could contact him with simply her mind from nearly anywhere he might be, a previously inconceivable loss of privacy that would take more than a little time to adapt.

This was one bizarre universe indeed.

Leaving Krystal to finish her discussion with Miyu, he exited the briefing area with the intention of donning his MJOLNIR.

As soon as he left the room, the smile Krystal had been forcefully adhering onto her muzzle faded, she frowning as her attention returned to Miyu.

"This is your one and only opportunity to prove to me the sincerity of your intentions." The vixen's voice was low and threatening, a barely restrained growl emanating from deep with her chest. She leaned forwards, her nose a hairsbreadth from the feline's. "And no matter the decision, you would do well to remember. He... Is... Mine."

"Y-yeah of course. Whatever you say." Miyu stuttered, nodding frenetically.

"Good." Krystal dipped her head in approval, stepping away from the cat with an innocent smile. "I look forwards to working alongside you again."

Miyu watched the vixen leave, Krystal humming softly to herself as she stepped out.

The feline shook her head slowly, muttering under her breath, alone in the room.

"What have you gotten yourself into now, girl?"

 

*****

 

Twisting the device in his hand, Six tightened the last deadbolt in his breastplate. He could feel the weight of the armor as a minor pressure on his chest. In its unpowered state, it did not benefit from the mechanized support systems. Unlike previous MJOLNIR permutations, the LORICA armor system utilized servomotors that benefited the user with increased agility and strength. These servos were vital to the suit's continued utility, as with the additional plating and various accruements it could not properly function otherwise

This was both an advantage and a detriment. Such additions amplified his already augmented abilities to the point where he rivaled that of his predecessors, the Spartan-IIs, truly humanity's finest defenders. But they were also a source of frustration for him at times, the intricacies of their mechanics needing a subtle touch that required virtually more patience then he possessed.

Extending a gloved hand towards the stand holding up parts of his suit, Six retrieved the rightmost bracer and clamped it to his forearm, his free hand possessing a tool to anchor the seals in the thick plate. Employing the utmost care, it took him a few minutes to secure it in place. Gradually, sections of his MJOLNIR were transferred and locked in their correct positions, gradually concealing him once more underneath the colossal armor.

The procedure brought to him a welcoming familiarity. It had been some time since he last felt the reassuring weight of his second skin. The armor reminded him of his roots, but not in an unkind way. He was glad that his troubled past had at least given him something for all that misery. He would utilize all the skills that had been imparted on him to keep Krystal and the others alive. This was his new objective in life, one he often repeated to himself, almost in a ritualistic fashion.

Keep them all alive, whatever the cost.

Before he finished, he was alerted to the faint rhythm of boots coming from the hall just outside the room he had appropriated as his arming station, the gait and force of the steps indicating a female. Curious, he paused and eyed the door, waiting to see who emerged.

He did not have to wait long as the volume of the approaching footsteps increased and the door's sensor activated, allowing the person to enter.

Krystal stepped inside and Six took a moment to study her, something he had frequently found himself doing whenever she was near. The vixen had changed out of her civilian clothes, substituting the thin fabrics for that strange battle uniform that seemed more like a bodysuit, the one with the blue plates. Though not what he would consider to be suitable combat apparel, it was not altogether unpleasing to the eyes. He would admit that it did well to compliment her athletic, slender build.

In her left paw he noticed that she was carrying that odd jeweled rod he had first seen so long ago. Since then he had speculated as to what its purpose was, ranging from some odd ornament of office to some mystique antique from her long dead homeworld. He had not considered it high enough of a priority to ask her for its origin at the time, leaving his curiosity unsated.

Maybe it was some sort of weapon? The only visible armament he could see from her being a small blaster on her waist. If it was, he was undeniably curious to how it might function.

Silent as he was up to this point, Six did not wish to seem as if he was ignoring her. So he became the first to speak.

"Krystal." He greeted the vixen. Now that they were in private, the smile he showed to her was decidedly warmer than those previous and his tone was borderline delighted for one such as him. It was a side of himself that only Krystal had the honor of seeing, where he was at his most emotional... and fragile.

"Are you ready, Six?" Accepting his smile with a beaming one of her own, she stepped out of the doorway, moving to position herself by the nearly vacant armor stand.

"Just a few more minutes." He answered, examining one of his shoulderplates to ensure the deadbolts were locked in place. It was better to uncover any issues with the MJOLNIR before the mission commenced. For a thorough inspection, each piece needed to be examined as it was attached. As of yet no problems had surfaced and he was confident his armor had made a full recovery from its recently damaged state.

"Need any help?" Krystal offered, eyeing the remaining piece of his suit he had yet to grab, a bracer.

"If you can handle it." Six replied, a thin, scarcely perceptible smirk forming on his face, betrayed by the faint gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Eyeing the smirking spartan dubiously, she grabbed the bracer and lifted it off the rack... or rather nearly failed at doing so.

Krystal grunted in surprise at the unexpected weight of the bracer as it was nearly torn from her grasp. The vixen struggled with the slab of metal, straining the muscles in her arms just to lift it past waist height, all while Six watched on. His previously guarded smirk shifted form, until the spartan was grinning openly as she battled with a lesser piece of his armor. 

She was stunned by the mass of this seemingly small hunk of metal. Its relatively minor size bellied its substantial weight. This bracer had to weigh at least a hundred pounds. No metal she knew to exist weighed so much and she could only assume that the density of whatever alloy it was comprised of was responsible for this phenomenon.

Thankfully, Six only let her struggle for a few seconds before stepping in, effortlessly lifting it in one hand, that grin still sedentary and unchecked on his lips as he stared down at her.

Krystal glared heatedly at him, irritated and embarrassed that he had toyed with her like that, that he had seen her in such a humiliating position. The vixen opened her muzzle, intending to scold him for his devious actions.

Yet, seeing that mirthful smile... so unlike the grim forbearance with which he commonly carried himself. She could not find it within herself to do that. The Six she had known months ago would have never bothered to do something like this, considering it as impractical, pointless, and wholly unnecessary. He was changing. And it was for the better.

Krystal's anger transformed, joy taking its place as the vixen giggled, his reverberating chuckle preceding her feathery laughter, two distinct and harmonious resonances she thought paired perfectly together. His was grating and deep, like a bear's growl, yet it was pleasant to her ears all the same, for it belonged to Six.

The man that she loved.

 

*****

 

Six stood on the gantry outside his Sabre, an open toolbox on the catwalk beside his boots. He had pried open a maintenance panel to get at the wiring inside, the color coded cords of fiber optics were spread throughout the ship, responsible for powering the countless electronics sequestered inside, which required his more immediate attention.

The hull plating had survived with minimal damage thus far. There were of course sections that could be repaired or replaced entirely yet he lacked the time to accomplish this. His focus was rather on the shields then the armor. The shield systems were delicate, exploiting reverse engineered Covenant tech much like his MJOLNIR. Which was in itself a small blessing, otherwise he would not have the expertise necessary to manage its upkeep. 

At the moment he was inspecting the emitters that powered the shields. As of late he had noticed a deficiency in the power output, one of the more important reasons he had kept the fighter secured on the dock. Its shields did not function at optimal efficiency and he would not fly it until it had passed his rigorous screening. As he sifted through the cords, he wondered what could have caused a lapse in wattage.

He searched for burnt, cut, or otherwise damaged wires, anything that might interfere with the distribution of energy. So far he had narrowed the problem to this specific panel, a long process of trial and error involving the routing and rerouting of power to key systems inside the cockpit. Whatever he might find, he hoped either he or Slippy had the technical knowhow to fix it within the timeframe he was given. This ship was important to him for a variety of reasons. He had no desire to use a cornerian vessel and doubted any would be sufficiently sized to accommodate him. Besides which the Sabre was a far superior craft than that of his allies, even their arwings were low grade in comparison. It would be a serious blow to their capabilities if it was rendered unusable.

Which meant it was vital that he remained focused on the task at hand... a proposition that was made difficult if not impossible given the animated whispers flickering across the catwalk.

The spartan exhaled heavily in exasperation, neck bending in irritation as his helmet rested against the opened panel with a muted thump. He had been the obvious choice in leading the groundside expedition. No one was more qualified than he. So it came as no surprise when Fox talking with him some few minutes ago, explaining in detail his responsibilities. That put him in charge of the feline and vixen, a prospect he had already held great trepidation over. This would not be the first time he had subordinates under his command. But to be brutally frank, it was the first time he genuinely cared about his dependents.

Six would accept nothing but complete and total success in this mission. That meant everyone came back alive. This would be a simple thing... if he could count on their whole and unabated cooperation.

However, judging by the intensity of the poorly hidden argument being waged between them....

He glanced over his shoulder, studying them both as they were far too preoccupied to notice. This time, he could very well see their displeasure with one another, their body language afire with irritation and aggression. He had seen such reactions before, only in animals fighting in territorially disputes, like the Gúta on Reach. He wondered what it was that had them so riled up. They had seemed perfectly amiable during the briefing. Had he been wrong in his assumption?

Females were indeed strange creatures.

He was starting to think it would be for the best for all involved if he went it alone like he was accustomed to. It did not help that Six was painfully aware of the circumstances of this assignment. This would be the first time he and Krystal had fought together, side by side on the battlefield. And as much as he enjoyed the idea, it made him nervous. Neither she nor Miyu were privileged enough to have the advantage of a full suit of powered armor like he benefited from.

He was not so much worried about the aerial battle as he was with the one on the ground, where no manner of piloting skill would save them from a stray blaster bolt or heated shrapnel. He had already been present when Miyu took a hit, and he worried how he might react if Krystal found herself in a similar situation. For once, he despised his unfair position, benefiting from superior equipment and training than that of his compatriots.

He had far less to worry about than they did. Little more then a direct hit from an anti-material weapon would scratch the thick plates of titanium alloy he was covered in. If the spartan wanted to ease his worries, he would have to do something to even the field a little. But at the moment there was nothing he could do but his best.

And in the meanwhile, he could only hope it would be enough.

Six smirked condescendingly, an action easily hidden behind the impassive silver façade of his visor. He did that quite often nowadays.... hope. The spartan wished for a lot of things, a future, an untroubled mind, perchance even peace. But it was up to fate to see whether they came true.

And he had never known fate to be kind.

A flicker of light brought his attention back to the maintenance panel, uncovering the origin of his power complications with a faint crackle of sparks. A bundle of corded wires had been severed, by a shard of shrapnel from the looks of it. Damage he had most likely received in one of his last engagements, whether from this place or the other was uncertain. Lowering the panel slightly, he matched the position of the wires to the outer casing and noticed a minute breach in the plating. A brief scan of it brought a sense of relief to him. The damage was minimal, nothing an hour of diligent repairs couldn't fix, stripping and replacing wires. But in the interim, he would have to reroute the power through a secondary path. 

A few minutes and he was done, shutting the panel and stepping away with a nod of satisfaction. The Sabre would fly again, and he could not help but feel some contentment at that. It would be good to be back in the cockpit once more. He had been starting to miss the thrill of flying. The few fond moments of his past had been in the cockpit, one of the few places he truly felt in control of his fate.

It was unfortunate that such pleasant thoughts were fleeting. He had not been in control of his path for many years, long since he lost that which made him human. Six remembered the man once called Spartan-B312, a bitter, rancorous creature with little empathy and even less humanity. Such a being had been perfect to suit the vile whims of ONI's more questionable sections. If B312 had been the mindset to arrive here....

He couldn't bear to think of what might have transpired.

Six was thankful for Noble Team... for Jorge. If not for the Spartan-II's patience and sage advice, he would have turned out to be a very different and equally unpleasant individual. Once more Six was saddened to be without them. If only they had lived to see this place he had unwittingly uncovered. Then they might all have benefited from the changes he continued to undergo, though Jorge would not have needed it as much as the others.

The gantry shifted underneath him, the reverberations alerting Six that the rest of the team had arrived and was likely ready to start the mission. Surprisingly, he held little of the anticipation he usually reserved for an impending operation. Instead, apprehension gnawed away at his insides. By rights this should be a rather simple and straightforward affair, kill any hostiles and recover pertinent data to the activities of the Venomian remnants, the kind of task he had completed countless times during the war with the Covenant. And it was guaranteed to be less hazardous then the skirmish on Zoness. Yet back then Starfox had not meant as much as they did to him now, and he was not as deadened to his own mind as he used to be. He was agonizingly conscious of himself now, almost to an unbearable degree. It had been easier in those days to lie to himself, less so now.

Six banished those thoughts, instead trying to focus on his work. The Sabre itself was in reasonable condition considering all it had been through, but that merely knocked away one problem. It mattered little if the ship could fly if it did not possess the resources needed to do so.

Its stock of missiles was utterly depleted and the 30mm shells stored in the munition hoppers were at little more than a half load. This would have to be enough to get him through the mission as he had no choice on the matter, but the issue had to be solved as soon as possible. He did not like deploying under strength, at least not when he could help it. Then of course there was the subject of fuel. He did not know what it was the cornerians used as method for propulsion, but would need to in order to find a way to keep the Sabre running. Thankfully, the interceptor's efficient fuel usage meant he had enough for at least a handful of operations if managed properly.

As usual, it would have to do for now.

Stepping away from the strike craft, he followed the gantry back to the main walkway, passing Fox and a few of the others as he headed towards the scaffold where Krystal's and Miyu's ships were berthed.

As he reached the vulpine, Fox grinned heartily upon seeing him. "Hey Six, I like what you did with your suit."

The spartan paused, glancing down at his MJOLNIR upon hearing his Commander's cheerful tenor. The overall scheme of his armor had not changed all that much. He could not find the exact tint of blue he customarily used in the ship's stores so he had taken what was available, which happened to be the very same hue they used for the arwing's.... well, wings. It was a darker and more pristine shade then he was accustomed to but it would have to suffice. The silvery Norse runes remained etched into his armor, though when the spartan had been applying the coat, he had, on an impulse, replicated Krystal's markings on his arms, an easy process given his eidetic memory. Unexpectedly, this had made her quite pleased, so he supposed it had been an appropriate decision.

The only obvious change, and what accounted for Fox's huge grin, was the bright orange emblem coated on the right pectoral of his breastplate and shoulderplate, the team's logo. Pride swelled within the vulpine's chest upon seeing Six fly their colors.

He was truly one of them now.

Not sure why Fox reacted the way he had, Six gave a respectful, yet hesitant nod to his Captain and resumed a mild pace to the other gantry. Upon reaching the branching off point, he halted, looking down the grated platform to the two females still bickering silently amongst themselves. He could have easily overheard their conversation but deliberately refrained from doing so. The spartan had no desire to be privy to heated words, having lived a life with more than enough of them. Instead he waited for the pair to notice his presence, Miyu being the first to see him.

Like a light switch flicking off, both women instantly ceased talking, turning slowly towards the towering soldier. Now with their attention, he crossed the rest of the path and stopped a few feet away. Although the rest of the team was jumping in their cockpits, Six was in no particular rush to do the same. He had already breached his usual protocols by coming to see them moments before the start of a mission. But there were words he wished to say, words he was not comfortable relaying over the team's comms. 

"Six, why aren't you getting ready to depart?" Krystal asked, smiling softly at him. While she would never wish him to leave, it was clear she had more than a few words left to say to the cat. And judging from the feline's expression, she was of the same frame of mind.

"I could ask you the same thing." Six countered, repeating verses he had said long ago, verses spoken in a different tone of voice at the time.

As intended, they had the sought for reaction, the vixen's smile fading.

It aggrieved Six to see this, especially as it was he who had caused such a response. However her welfare was a priority that superseded her feelings. "I know not the reason you two are at each other's throats, nor is it any business of mine. And though you may try and hide this, I am not as blind as you might think me to be. I ask not that you bury your issues, merely that you put such views aside for the moment... please." He already feared for their safety in the coming battle that it was hard enough to seem them so full of anger. He saw nothing of the women he respected in them at that moment.

And that hurt the most of all.

They were shocked to hear him speak so directly, having thought they kept their arguments well hidden. Both had yet to truly understand how perceptive a spartan was. Yet perhaps what caught them most off guard had been the tone he took on his final word, like that of a child trapped between bickering parents. It was a vivid reminder that he was not as unyielding as he outwardly displayed... and of how important they were too him. It must have distressed the spartan greatly to see them like this. Immediately remorse hit the both of them. They had been so preoccupied in their quarreling over Six that they nearly forgotten the man himself.

Krystal looked to Miyu, sharing an unspoken agreement with the feline in that one moment. They would find a better way to solve their issues, and not forget who it was about.

"Aright," The cat spoke first. "We'll do as you say."

"We shall argue no longer. This I promise you." Krystal agreed with an apologetic smile.

He took a few moments to gauge the depth of their sincerity before he was convinced.

"That is well." Six nodded slowly, relief evident in his voice. "If either of you were hurt..." He paused, clearly unable to finish the intolerable thought. "I will do my best to protect you both. All I ask is that you let me."

 

"Not that we don't appreciate the thought. But I think Krystal and I can take care of ourselves." Miyu smirked, and thus winced as Krystal dug her elbow into the feline's gut.

"Of course we will. I wouldn't have it any other way." The vixen smiled in blatant appreciation.

"Good...." Six offered no more words, the spartan standing in an awkward silence of his own creation. He was inexperienced with heartfelt dialogues. But at least he had tried. Sheepish, Six nodded intermittently and turned about, tracing the route back to his ship, head ducked low in discomfiture. Things had not gone to plan. The troubled man had allowed too much of his core to leak through into his words. He had shown weakness.

Spartans did not show weakness.

But perhaps... he was something more.


	24. The Heat of Battle

Chapter 23: The Heat of Battle

 

Six felt an indistinct shudder as the Sabre launched, thrust out of the Great Fox's hanger bay on magnetic rails, rocketing into the ever familiar pitch blackness of space. Not moments later a flurry of activity preceded the launch of his fellow team members, the distinctly alien craft assuming a standard formation around him.

It was good to be back in the cockpit once more, though he had yet to get used to the notion that he was flying alongside a team. He had always flown solo, even in his earliest days of piloting during the Mamore insurrection. The first time he had flown with Starfox, he had not really, charging off to deal with the threat on his own as he commonly did. This would be different. He had wingmen... or rather wingwomen. Krystal and Miyu would be accompanying him throughout the duration of this fight, both in space and on the ground, the spartan recalling the briefing with distinct clarity. Slippy and Fay would protect the Great Fox, a fairly anodyne task. Falco and Fox had more than enough experience between the two of them that Six was not concerned with the fact they would be essentially tackling the majority of the venomian fighters. He knew Fox to be an accomplished pilot, perhaps even as skilled the greatest airmen of the UNSC.

Falco... well the avian always had his arrogance to back him up.

Krystal had her telepathic talent which would hopefully keep her out of any serious trouble and from what he had knew of Miyu she was more than capable of taking care of herself. His true worry would begin once they landed. Six had taken great pains to ensure that they were prepared. The exterior of the facility was exposed to hard vacuum, which came as no surprise considering it was the surface of an asteroid. He had made certain both women were outfitted with the proper equipment to see them through the E.V.A. And that he was prepared in case they encountered any heavy armor.

Of course before he could worry about that they had to get there first.

Six studied the familiar bank of screens displaying tactical readouts, shield status, ammo counters, and real time positioning software. The Sabre was the pride of the UNSC fighter core, featuring the most advanced technology money could buy, and stealing it where it couldn't. It was also very likely the only one of its kind left in existence. The last of the Sabres had been stationed on Reach and he could assume that they had been destroyed alongside the planet itself. And this one was nowhere near anything even remotely resembling UNSC territory. That must make it quite a rare piece of tech indeed.

A blip on his radar moved closer and the spartan glanced out the canopy, observing as Krystal's Cloudrunner assumed a parallel flight path. Analyzing her vessel, he came to the conclusion that its designation was an apt one. He could very well imagine it skirting through the clouds of an alien world. Its graceful and sleek saurian design eerily reminded him of Covenant engineering. Yet he took comfort in the familiarity of who the pilot was; someone that could never be compared to those monstrosities. Krystal was nothing like them, the cornerians were nothing like them.

If only humanity had stumbled across these people instead, he imagined history would have taken an entirely different turn of events.

Her ship was so close that he could see her, the vixen smiling and waving at him from across the short distance. Not realizing he was doing so, the spartan lifted a gauntlet and acknowledged her greeting.

The Sabre's tracker emitted a sharp tone, signaling that his other wingmate had occupied his opposite flank, effectively boxing him in between them. Yet rather than the wariness he might have felt once before, he instead felt relieved. He trusted them, more than he had ever trusted anyone before. He would have no one else fly at his side then those on the Starfox Team. Whatever might come, they would endure it together.

 

*****

 

Krystal's grin widened exponentially as Six replicated her action, even that brief acknowledgment enough to send her heart racing. She was content, more so then she had ever been in a long time, all thanks to the spartan. The pain of what she had had lost would always linger, her family could never be replaced. But she could find such feelings again, the connectivity, the sense of belonging.

Starfox was her new Family, but Six was something more.

As the days passed she could feel the ever burgeoning connection gradually maturing between them. Even in the beginning they had never really needed to speak to convey their understanding in one another. She could recognize the essence of his thoughts and feelings without the need or use of her powers.

She did not love him, the affection she felt for Six was stronger than just love. He was a part of her, the part she could never be on her own. He was her strength, her determination, and her courage, just as she liked to believe she was the parts he could not find on his own. The vixen took pride in what she did for him, that after all he had suffered, conditions that the strongest of individuals could not hope to endure. It was she that could show him the way through such trials.

So when Miyu told her that she loved him as well, it was a... difficult truth to swallow. Krystal could see why the feline had fallen for Six, why any women might. He was strong, stalwart in the face of mortal danger, without a doubt one of the more physically attractive males she had the pleasure to lay eyes on, and his loyalty, though hard-won, was absolute and undisputed. Betrayal and deceit were two fallings he did not suffer from. The spartan was utterly devoted to those who had gained his conviction, and she was thankful to be one of the few to possess it.

Yet the facets of his personality were wide ranging and enigmatic. There were parts of him she was not privy too, even though he had opened himself completely to her, parts he was not even wholly aware of, or perhaps kept closely hidden. At times as he slept she had lain awake, recognizing the tumult of sensations he let slip in his unwary rest. And on rare occasion she received the briefest of images or emotions, flashes of unguarded memories and sentiments, like nothing she had ever felt before, blinding rage, depthless anguish. The brutal and crushing weight of hopelessness, futility, and despair.

She feared he may never overcome the horrors of his past for they seemed vast and far-reaching... or at least he might not on his own. She was experienced in the arts of restoration, though she was uncertain whether she had the ability to mend the ingrained nature of the scars he bore. But Krystal felt that she had to try, if for no other reason than that she loved him and could not bear the burden of knowing he was in such pain and do nothing to heal his ailments.

The vixen feared she was not enough to help him, at least not on her own. It was the absolute only reason she had even considered offering what she had to Miyu. She cared enough about him that she would go to any length to help him, even if it meant she had to... share. The thought alone angered her. Six should belong to her and her alone. But she had to admit that the feline had the resolve and strength of character to pursue where she herself would often yield, could press him on things she would not have the courage to follow, find the truths he wished to remain buried. The only true path to healing was catharsis, he had to let go, to confide in others, to surrender the demons of his past. Then he might find some measure of peace in his weary soul.

And if she had to share him with anyone to achieve that, she would rather it be her friend.

"Hey Krystal..." As if called to action by her thoughts, the feline reached out to her on their private comms, away from the other members of the team.

"What?" The vixen snapped, her emotions still burning hot. Though, she swiftly regretted it. Lately she had been rather hard on Miyu. But that was to be expected, the cat asked a great deal from her after all. "What?" She repeated with a sigh, this time in a much softer, forgiving tone.

"I just wanted to apologize before this all starts. I know none of this is what you wanted. I didn't want this either. Heck, you even have a right to be angry."

Krystal watched as they neared the asteroid field, narrowing the time they had left to talk. Soon it would be time to fight and though it had been some stretch since she last sat in the cockpit, she was fairly confident in her abilities. She would succeed. It was what would occur after that had her worried. But as long as she had Six at her side, she would not fear the battles that laid ahead of them.

The vixen had heard the sincerity in Miyu's voice, and it touched her. For a moment, Krystal allowed herself to try and understand what it might be like in the feline's shoes, imagining how it must feel to be on the other side of the fence, to be denied the one she yearned for, to have dropped so many signals and ques, only to be overlooked due to sheer ignorance on his part. And after all that effort, to have him taken by someone who did not spend the same level of effort. In his desire for understanding he had found Krystal, not Miyu. And if things had been even slightly altered, there might have been a very different outcome.

Krystal discovered that she pitied her friend.

"It's... alright Miyu. I... understand." It was difficult to pry those words from her mouth, but they had needed to be said.

"You... do?" The feline clearly had not expected to hear such admittance.

"Yes, I do. If things had been reversed, I very well would have felt the same way. He is indeed a very interesting male."

"Interesting? He's down right puzzling. The guy has more sides then a damned Furbik's cube."

Krystal chuckled, finding Miyu's assessment to both be humorous and an apt comparison. 

"Indeed."

"And of course he's stubborn as a brick wall and twice as obstinate." The cat went on and on, seemingly on a roll. For there was undeniably much to say when Six was involved. "Don't even get me started on..."

Laughter filled the vixen's cockpit as Miyu went in detail about all the things that frustrated her about Six And it seemed as if they both had the same issues in regards to the spartan. Krystal was loath to admit it, but she was glad to be on genial terms with the lynx once more. It was nice to have her friend back and gave her hope that they could work things out between them with civility.

As her giggles quieted down, Krystal noticed a change in tone from the feline, something more somber then she would have expected from her friend.

"You know this is nice, the whole not being at each other's throats thing. I kinda almost forget what it was like. But it did remind me of when we first met. Do you remember those days?"

Krystal did indeed, for it had been much like the past few weeks. Back then she had been a different woman, one easily slighted. And Miyu had just been some rude cat with a lecherous tongue. They had clashed repeatedly in the first couple of days. Their conversations had been little more than thinly veiled arguments over the smallest of things.

They had only formed their close bond after a rather serious skirmish with some venomian forces, where Miyu had ended up getting them both out of trouble, very well saving her life in the process.

"Yes, those were different times. Back when things were less... complicated." She did not wish to say what was really on her mind. That this had been before they encountered an otherworldly supersoldier, one it seemed they both held considerable interest in. 

"Different times indeed," Miyu sighed quietly. "Kinda wish we could have those back, ya know?"

Krystal did not respond immediately. This was her moment to make a decision. Dare she make the jump? Could she tolerate sharing the male of her dreams with someone else, even Miyu, her closest friend? She was the only one Krystal could think to do this with. Six had sacrificed everything to get to the point he was at. Could she do the same if it meant it could help save him?

"We could have them back." The vixen suggested in a soft voice, this time catching the lynx by surprise.

"I don't gather..." The feline muttered in confusion.

"We do not have to be enemies, Miyu. We can still have things like they were before."

There was only way the cat knew to make that work. "You're not saying?"

"That I am." She confirmed with an indisposed sigh, exhaling in unenthused resignation. She did not completely like or even accept the idea, but in the end it was the only one she could think to make.

"That's... great." Miyu was not successful in fully concealing her thoughts on the matter, or rather her doubts. Truthfully, she was glad. But that was merely one side of an already complex equation. Before they could even try to get comfortable with the idea they had to discover how Six might react or if he was even onboard with the notion. Any other ardent male might have been ecstatic at the prospect. But it had been long established that he was not like other males.

Even if he was unopposed to the idea, they would still have to sort out the details, what would end up being a truly uncomfortable process. But if it was for Six, both women would be willing to see it through.

Krystal picked up a flash of movement from the spartan's craft as he signaled at her. Confused, she soon realized that they had been running silent for some time. The vixen quickly reestablished communications with the rest of the team.

"What is it?" She broadcasted over to the spartan's ship.

"Is everything alright? I tried several times but could not reach you."

 

The concern in his voice was welcoming and eased her worries, assuring the vixen that she had made the right decision. "Yes everything is fine, Six. I was just speaking privately with Miyu."

"And all is... well?" He asked hesitantly. The spartan had become aware as of late with the knowledge that they did not quite get along.

"All is well indeed. Isn't that right, Miyu?"

"Yep, right as rain. Don't you worry, Six, we're doing alright, better then alright even!" The feline supported Krystal's appeasement with her trademark enthusiasm.

Truthfully, Six was not entirely convinced but did not have the time to dwell on it. "Good, because Fox tells me we are nearing the conflict zone." At this point, if it had been anyone else but Krystal and Miyu, he would have felt the need to relay detailed orders for the engagement. However he was confident that they were capable enough to function without any need for tactical oversight. As long as they followed his lead all would be well.

In fact he had more cause to worry about himself. The sabre had been designed with a radar interceptor officer in mind, someone to occupy the tasks the pilot would be too busy to perform and manage engagements beyond his ability to perceive. And while he had extensive experience flying solo, being without required a great deal of concentration. He would not be able to keep tabs on either of his wingmates or the rest of the team. Six might have been a spartan, but there was only so much he could multitask before he would endanger his own survival.

Returning his attention to the interior of his craft, the spartan noted that his sensors console had picked up the enemy before anyone else, informing him that they had been noticed. Unnecessary given he could see that for himself.

The Sabre's systems were more innovative than that of the arwings, allowing him an advantageous and detailed overview on the venomian forces. His HUD, connected with the Sabre's targeting software, pinpointing the positions of over three dozen fighters that became active at the sight of their approach. This must be the frigates' escort. Such would have been a considerable force and cause for concern if they were Covenant. Instead Six imagined it would not be all that of a challenge for the likes of the team. It was novel to have allies with equipment that was superior to the enemies'.

A few moments after he picked them up on his scans, Fox spoke and he watched as the vulpine's arwing shot forwards. "Alright team you know the drill. Get ready to rock 'n' roll!"

Six grudgingly eased off the Sabre's acceleration, his wingmates quickly following suit. As much as he would have preferred to lead the charge himself, he had a higher priority. Fox and Falco would be the lance to get them through the thick of the fighting, providing the interference needed to pierce the defensive lines of the enemy and deploy on the asteroid base. His responsibility lied with retrieving any information he could from the base's computers. For once, he wished he had been supplied with an A.I.

MJOLNIR armor had been designed with the capabilities to house the most advanced artificial intelligences the UNSC possessed. Yet, like spartans, such resources were in high demand and it was rare to see them deployed congruently with each other. Besides, he had never liked the idea of having someone else in his head. Though, he thought wryly, such was indeed the case with Krystal. She, he decided, was the exception.

Either way, he would have to rely on his own abilities to get the job done. And as luck would have it he had experience in breaching alien systems, experience kindly presented to him with the help of the Covenant. With their advanced encryption, he was certain whatever these venomians used to safeguard their secrets would not prove to all that of a challenge.

As he went over the coming operation in his head, a pair of bright green energy beams sailed out from behind him, crossing the open space and crashing into one of the venomian frigates, visibly diminishing its shields. The spartan did not need look over his shoulder to know that the Great Fox had commenced the attack. Not seconds later both enemy vessels' responded in kind, firing their own salvos at the dreadnaught, the volley of crimson layers futilely passing through empty space as the ship dodged the attack with a well-timed burst from the portside thrusters.

It looked as if both ROB and Peppy made quite an effectual team. Six had never really met the robot. The spartan had never felt inclined to as it was just a machine, but perhaps he should considering his permanence on this team. It might be best to meet with it, even if it was just a automaton.

As the three spacecraft prepared to reengage, the team's two frontrunners reached weapons range with the venomian fighters. In the time it took for Six to reach their position Falco and Fox had already eliminated a handful of enemy pilots, quite a notable feat Six was willing admit.

"Stay close to me." He ordered his two companions as they reached the battle. It would be difficult, but if they were close enough, he could keep an eye on them, though that would undoubtedly interfere with his combat effectiveness, he was willing to make the sacrifice.

Sighting his first target, Six was caught by surprise when Miyu claimed the initial kill, blasting a venomian fighter that had tried to reach a more favorable location.

The feline chuckled. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing."

With some effort, Six managed to refrain the eye roll he felt coming, instead diverting his efforts into squeezing the joystick's trigger. The burst of high velocity shells perforated a pair of unlucky fighters attempting to fly past them and attack the dreadnaught.

A third tried to do what its companions had failed to do, and was quickly shot down by Krystal's Cloudrunner as she swooped down from on high.

"That is one venomian who will no longer trouble us."

"Correct." Six agreed with the vixen. "However there are many more where he came from." Even as they tore through the ships present, he could see even more launching from the frigates' hangers.

"They will not be an issue." The female fox replied serenely. "The three of us are more than a match."

Turning another fighter into dust, Six rounded his Sabre to meet the oncoming foe, but did not get very far before his plans were interrupted.

"Don't worry about them Six, we can take care of it." Fox's voice came over the comms, the vulpine's arwing rolling nimbly through enemy fire and cutting down the ship he pursued. "Just head on out to that base and get that data." He led another venomian into Falco's sights and the bird quickly eliminated it.

"Yeah, we'll be done before you even touch the ground." Falco assured him. Both he and Fox seemed to be handling things well enough so Six saw no reason to disagree.

"Understood." He was loath to leave a fight unfinished. But he was aware of the need for haste. If the venomians grasped what they had come here for, they might wipe the prevalent information the team needed.

The Sabre's 30mm cannons spun up one last time, peppering a venomian fighter just within his weapon's range, mulching the flimsy, mass produced and alien construct.

That of course did not mean he couldn't leave a parting gift.

"Come on, we've got a party of our own to attended to." Miyu urged him, directing the nose of her stubby interceptor to the large asteroid several hundred kilometers away.

Reluctantly, he flipped the Sabre around and followed after her, Krystal lagging close behind. With a slight pull on his stick, Six positioned his ship in just a way that shielded her for the oncoming approach, unwilling to put her in harm's way if he could avoid it.

She was far too important.

His action did not go unnoticed and the vixen smiled warmly, though she refrained from offering thanks, aware that she need not say anything that he did not already know.

With Fox keeping the threat of venomian fighters at bay, the trio had an easy team reaching their destination, though once they were within sight of the facility, things changed.

From a glance Six's trained eyes gathered all the information he needed to know. The facility did not have any outer defenses other than the rather limited network of AA turrets encircling the large, box-like structure. Unlike the Covenant, it seemed Venom did not bother with beatific architecture. It was rather rugged, utilitarian, not unlike UNSC design.

The comparison brought him little comfort.

With a sharp intake of breath, Miyu jerked her flight stick, the feline's interceptor barely avoiding the flurry of incoming fire released from the base's inadequate defenses as it spun wildly.

"Woo boy! That was an unpleasant surprise. Looks like they don't approve of party crashers here." The lynx muttered in mock disappointment. A burst of sustained fire and several explosions later and the cat chuckled. "Too bad I'm of the persistent variety."

With the level of accuracy and skill of only the most experienced pilots, the feline had targeted and eliminated the groundside defenses with pinpoint precision. The spartan had to admit, he was moderately impressed, a sentiment he often felt when the lynx was involved.

"As much as she runs her mouth, Miyu does have her uses." Krystal admitted with a rueful chuckle. The vixen knew Six well enough to have a pretty consistent read on his thoughts. Such a realization might have alarmed him some months ago, but now it merely was an occurrence he had come to respect. It was impressive to understand a spartan in such detail, and proof that she was worth the effort.

"On that we agree." The spartan felt an unusual pull to his lips, a smile he came to recognize. It was an action he noticed himself preforming quite often nowadays.

The notion was... pleasant.

"Aw, you flatter me." The feline chuckled.

With the immediate area clear, Six brought the Sabre into a holding pattern a kilometer from the facility, scanning for any more exterior threats. The motion detector was silent and he could see no more signs of energy distribution outside, meaning any external defenses were either destroyed or offline, most likely the former. Miyu was undoubtedly a good shot.

Once deemed safe enough, he dialed down the engines and used the VTOL thrusters on either side of the interceptor to bring it down to the surface. He was curious enough to note that though their ships did not possess the same utilities as his, Miyu and Krystal were able to replicate his actions without fault, a fascinating example of the usefulness of this G-diffusion technology so commonly employed here. The workings of such devices would have very much been an interest to UNSC scientists. 

As the landing struts took the Sabre's weight, Six powered down its systems and checked his armor's integrity before popping the seal on his cockpit, climbing out and down the side of the craft. The action was somewhat cumbersome given the very low level of gravity, but thankfully his experience in E.V.A training and heavy armor made it easier. 

The spartan studied his air gauge as his two companions exited their own craft. He had a few hours before the supply would run out, an unneeded concern as they would be inside a structure for most of their mission.

"Ya know, I always loved this kind of stuff. It was my favorite part of boot." He heard Miyu remark.

Turning to the feline, he watched as she gave a few experimental hops, testing the limits of the partial gravity of the moon-like asteroid. It was simple to distinguish between her and Krystal, and not just due to their unique voices. Both had equally distinctive and differentiating apparel. 

The lynx was bedecked in a full-body armored suit of the olive green variety, and with a golden, albeit translucent faceplate, it reminded him of a certain individual he had dealt with a few times in the past.

"Be careful should you start to drift away. Neither I nor Six will catch you." Krystal warned as she sedately stepped away from her ship, her instinctive grace entirely unaffected by the environment. She wore the same black and blue outfit he had come familiar with, though it was gloved and a trim onyx helmet obscured most of her more appealing qualities. Hers and the cat's tails as he noticed interestingly enough; were enclosed in a ribbed extension of the suit, offering them free use of form, even in hard vacuum.

"Nah, you totally would." Miyu retorted confidently, the feline taking a bold leap into the air, giggling merrily as she floated off into the void.

Six's gauntlet lunged out and swiftly latched onto the cat's booted ankle, dragging her back to the surface none too gently, only increasing the volume of her laughter.

"Told ya." The lynx gave Krystal a smug glance, arms folded in a victorious pose even as Six lowered her to the ashen grey dirt.

"Please refrain from floating off into space." The spartan muttered dryly. "I will not catch you a second time."

"Oh don't worry, I already proved my point." The feline assured him, her barbed tongue visible behind her visor as she leered at the vixen standing unimpressed by her Cloudrunner.

"And such a miraculous point it was, truly incredible." With that droll retort the vixen moved, pressing across the moonscape in the direction of the facility.

"Oh lighten up. I'm just trying to have some fun here. I thought we had a moment earlier girl!" Miyu rolled her eyes in exasperation and chased after her friend with mildly awkward bounds.

Letting them scamper off ahead, but not too far that he could not act if the need arose, Six stretched over his shoulder and grabbed the rifle secured to his back, bringing the weapon into a two-handed grip. Turning it to its side, he flicked off the safety and brushed a thoughtful gauntlet over the smooth, jet-black finish.

He supposed that since it was no longer truly an MA37 that he should give it a proper name for identification purposes in the future. But that could come later, after he tested it and it met his approval. For now, simply 'rifle' should do.

Patting the munitions cases on his breastplate, Six easily caught up to them with his unrelenting gait as he counted his magazines. The spartan had brought a dozen clips for the rifle, not sure if he would need more or less. He considered a dozen to be a well enough rounded number. If he needed more than that... well honestly he would be surprised. From results of his preliminary testing of the weapon Six was confident in its effectiveness.

Occupying the second magnetic holster on his back was a weapon he had borrowed from the Great Fox's impressive armory. He had yet to test it as one did not test fire a device like it within the crowded confines of a starship, but he knew how it operated, had studied it in detail. If the time came, he would not be found wanting. The spartan would not have a repeat of what transpired on Fortuna, not when lives other than his own were on the line. Of course he had a sidearm as well, generously donated by Miyu. He recognized it as the very same one he had used before, which was fortunate as he happened to like that particular gun. It had decent stopping power and a fairly low kick.

As Krystal and Miyu chatted amongst themselves, Six stretched his gaze skywards, or at least what amounted to the sky on an immense hunk of floating space rock. He could see the crisscrossing multicolored laser trails of his other team members as they dueled for control of the skies, even his enhanced eyesight unable to make out individual ships at such extreme range. He could only see the Great Fox and its two combatants as slivers of silvery color. Six did not worry for them, but he did wish them luck. They had their task, and he had his own.

The structure grew larger in the distance as they drew closer, still no signs of resistance as they neared the compound's doors. It was clear that the venomians had rushed to complete the facility as neither gates nor walls protected it and no signs of sentries besides the automated turrets had been seen as of yet. Most likely the entire force was holed up inside, which made the job quite easy for him. Nothing surpassed a spartan in close quarters. They had only hastened their demise by choosing to hide away, quite kind of them really. 

"To be honest guys, I expected more of a fight." Miyu declared as she stepped towards the large steel doors leading into the installation, echoing his thoughts of not but a few moments ago.

"We are of the same mind it seems." Krystal agreed as she followed after the lynx, eying the open expanse of deserted asteroid warily.

"The fight lies not out here, but in there." Six gestured towards the locked doors with his rifle. "Inside you will find your fill."

"Yeah... thought you might say that." The lynx sighed, unslinging the blaster rifle that had been suspended on her shoulder. The weapon was remarkably large for its design, as were most armaments he found the feline carrying. "Ain't anythin ever that easy."

Miyu did nothing by half measures it seems.

A commotion at Krystal's side caught Six by surprise and he watched curiously as the strange tool she carried extended outwards, what he had thought to be a rod was in actuality a jeweled staff that was nearly as long as he was tall. It was, Six was shocked to note, the very same he had seen her carrying on occasion, he having never considered either object to be related. Upon realizing what she possessed, he could not help but feel intrigued and uncertain. Six did not know what to think at seeing her carry a melee focused weapon. It would undoubtedly enhance the danger she would be in, but he trusted that she knew what to do with it. So far he had never had cause to think the team incompetent in anything too critical.

Seeing them both ready, he strode forward and motioned for them to take positions on either side of the doors as he accessed the panel keeping them locked. It was fairly simple to plug his TACPAD in and hack into their systems. Honestly, their cybersecurity was a joke, as if designed by an underdeveloped infant. He was through the encryption and accessing their systems before his two companions had finished stetting up. Finding the guidelines keeping the doors in the 'locked' setting, he swiftly plugged in an override command, forcing them to initiate their opposite directives. 

With a muted click, the lights flashed green and an open prompt flickered onto the access pad. "Ready?" He asked, looking to both of them. There would be no stopping once those doors opened.

"Always eager for a fight." Miyu grinned confidently, her smirk taking on an orange hue through her visor.

"I anticipate the opportunity to fight at your side." Krystal offered him a slight, nervous nod, visible agitation on her muzzle. Clearly she was not used to door breaches

The spartan reassuringly inclined his helmet in her direction and tapped the open key before shouldering his rifle. The silence of their environment only allowed their tense breathing to filter through into Six's helm as the door lethargically peeled open.

He did not know what they would face inside. But he did know one thing.

They were all getting out of this alive.

 

*****

 

An explosion flashed outside Fox's cockpit as yet another venomian fighter was added to his ever growing tally. He had stopped counting his kills shortly after Andross' first defeat at his paws. But he was certain that the tally marks would cover an entire wall, possibly more.

Twisting his arwing around, the vulpine prepared a charged shot, activating the fighter's lock-on systems to target one more ship.

"How do you think it's going down there?"

Fox eased of the trigger, the overclocked bolt of energy scything through space to smash into the insubstantial hull of the unfortunate enemy in his crosshairs, blasting it into atoms.

"Honestly? I think they'll have an easier time of it. After all, they have Six." Falco replied in an even tone as he ended the flight career of yet another venomian pilot.

Fox supposed the avian had a point. He was not worried for either Krystal or Miyu. Not only were both competent warriors, but they had the spartan with them. Whenever Six was involved, the danger of dying was reduced drastically. Such was the benefit of having an interdimensional-supersoldier amongst their ranks. If anything he was worried about himself.

The volume of venomian fighter craft was thicker than expected. Even fay and Slippy had a hard time keeping them off the Great Fox. The vulpine regretted not installing the short range defense turrets when he had the chance last time they were at port, just another problem that needed solving once they returned. And with all that was slated to come, he was certain the General would gladly foot the bill.

For now they would just have to do without. As is they were holding steady, but their situation would be decidedly less precarious if one of those frigates would go away. The thought gave him an idea, a suitably reckless one.

"Falco, form up on me. Slip, Fay, make sure those fighters have a bad day."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" The pheasant muttered under his breath as he complied with the vulpine's orders. Fox was infamous for having stupid plans, yet his fame came from his dangerously high luck.

"I don't know, but I have a good one. Come on, Falco. It'll be fun."

"Yep, definitely a bad feeling." He confirmed, downing another venomian as he pulled up alongside Fox.

"You see that frigate over there?" Fox asked.

"Kinda hard not to, wouldn't you agree?" Falco retorted.

"Yeah, well we're gonna break it."

"This can only end in tragedy."

"Really? I thought a reckless, gung-ho plan would be right up your alley." Fox inquired as he sent his arwing into a dive, intending to come up underneath the venomian warship.

"See that's the thing, such plans usually don't involve a painful death." The avian grumbled as he tagged along, blasting a fighter that had traveled too close. The space around the engagement zone was slowly clearing up as the venomian presence was reduced, but it looked like it wasn't fast enough for Fox.

"Aw, don't be such a Debby downer. We're not gonna die. I have a plan remember?"

"Which is why we will die I imagine." Falco muttered sardonically.

"Oh ye of little faith. Just follow my lead and we'll both come out with another badass war story to regale at a bar of our choosing. Just imagine all the tail you could pull."

The avian had to begrudgingly admit, the vulpine's words did sway him somewhat.

"Alright, I'm listening.

"Awesome, let me lay it out for ya. You make a kamikaze run on the frigate and get the attention of the deck guns. Meanwhile, I come up from below and send a few smart bombs into its gut. Peppy and ROB have done enough damage that this should finish the job... hypothetically.

Falco immediately saw a flaw in this grand plan of his.

"Why the hell do I have to be the bait?"

"Because A. I came up with this strategy. And B. As your Commander I order you to be the bait."

"...You suck."

"Hey you should thank me. You get the most heroic role here. I'm doing you a favor.

"Then why don't I feel like it?" The bird grumbled inaudibly as he pulled up, not really believing that he was about to go through with this. "I see now why Miyu hates all of your plans."

"She doesn't hate them." Fox snapped defensively. "It's more of a... strong dislike."

"Yeah, that's it." Falco shook his head. "Whatever, let's just get this over with."

"Hey, at least you're up here. You could on the ground you know."

"That's the lesser of two evils I imagine." Falco had a feeling Six and the two women were having a much easier time.

 

*****

 

As soon as the door heighted to just above his knees, Six's motion tracker picked up thirty signals scattered across its twenty-five meter detection range in little clusters. The positions were spread out enough for him to assume the venomians were in cover, perhaps behind hastily erected barricades. He would have preferred to seek cover himself but there was nothing to move behind in the deserted scape of the asteroid. Miyu and Krystal already had each side of the door covered.

That of course left him with his least desirable option, a charge.

The spartan braced himself for the storm of directed energy he would be submitting himself to and rested the stock of his rifle against his shoulder, tensing for his moment of action.

Perhaps waiting to draw anyone else in, the venomians did not open fire until he was completely exposed. And in the milliseconds before the immediate area degenerated into a warzone, Six's hyper alert senses allowed him to snap a mental image of the region in front of him.

The base's airlock was a wide open space, with steel barriers set up in staggered lines all the way to the back, situated in defense of the interior door. The enemy was scattered across the chamber in small teams, two to each barricade with overlapping lanes of fire centered on the exposed entryway. The venomians had obviously known they would be coming. It would be a challenging advance, but not in any way impossible.

Six felt a familiar piercing jolt of icy electricity shock its way up his spine, the world suddenly slowing to a near standstill as all sound faded off into complete and utter silence. He watched as triggers were pulled by lethargic fingers, weapon barrels slothfully glowing a cherry red. From them rods of light issued forth with debilitating slowness, as if the whole world was trapped in amber. 

Too slow...

The spartan burst into activity.

Propelling his legs forward, Six traveled with such swiftness that energy itself could not touch him, the venomian's blaster bolts flying through empty space he had occupied moments ago as the spartan flowed through the chamber with breathtaking and unexpected elegance, visibly unhindered by his seemingly cumbersome armor. In fact to all eyes present it became clear the suit was more akin to a second skin then a hindrance. The man was nothing more than an engine of fine-tuned destruction, his actions governed by emotionless and machine-like apathy.

Raise rifle...

Sight target...

Exhale...

Squeeze...

Sight target...

An endlessly rehearsed motion that was all but second nature to the human warrior, the entirety of his actions occurring within the span of a single second.

One high caliber round hurtled out of the barrel at fatal velocity, the kick of the weapon digging into his shoulderplate as it discharged the hybrid ammunition.

The projectile impacted on target, punching a crater in a venomian's chest the size of a spartan's closed fist, throwing the reptilian backwards with the force of an oncoming car. An explosion of gore fountained from the alien's back as the hydrostatic shock of an armor piercing, plasma coated, FMJ .50 caliber slug shunted his internal organs into the far wall, painting it a bright crimson.

The focused soldier only allowed himself a brief instant of astonishment before he wheeled his rifle and selected the next target, one that stood beside his recently deceased companion, the incomprehension still clearly evident on the simians gapping expression though its transparent mask. The unfortunate ape did not have long to wonder on his comrade's fate as Six pulled the trigger once more, blowing apart the ill-fated alien.

In time with the broken corpses journey across the room, Six felt several impacts on his shield, the energy barrier absorbing the attacks with some difficulty as the venomians recovered from their shock at the blitzing titan wielding an apparently semi-automatic cannon. The sheer volume of incoming fire forced him to take cover at the barricade he had devoid of life, lest he risk a shield failure. Positioning himself, time and sound rushed back to Six all at once with the accustomed and brief disorientation, his breathing having only risen slightly as blaster bolts crisscrossed the room in color-coded chaos.

He chanced a moment to pinpoint the positions of his allies, seeing that neither had the chance to get further inside, firmly pinned outside the airlock doors by the unforgiving venomian barrage. Miyu tried to offer her assistance, the feline jutting her blaster out of cover and sending inaccurate shots down range, thankfully nowhere near him. Her efforts did relieve some of the pressure he was under as a few of the venomian soldiers traded fire with her.

Krystal had yet to do anything, the vixen grasping her staff firmly in her paws, eyes closed serenely in meditation. Six knew not what she was doing, but hoped the vixen would act soon.

Just as Six readied to pop out of cover, he watched a small black canister float towards him, the spartan's experienced mind instantly identifying the device. Shifting to stand, he fired a round with meticulous precision and the grenade detonated, distributing a wave of force that echoed throughout the chamber.

The explosive did not have the effect that the soldier who threw it intended. With the spartan's boots securely magnetized to the steel flooring, the blast only succeeded in knocking a handful of venomians off their feet. As they flailed helplessly in the zero-g environment, Miyu put them out of their misery with a few well aimed shots before she disappeared behind the wall once more.

Suddenly, Krystal burst into movement, rushing towards Six's position as a strange blue light engulfed her body. Six watched in growing bewilderment as the attacks directed at her bounced harmlessly off the glowing bubble that encircled her, sending the crimson rods of energy streaming back at their owners, much to the venomians' brief surprise.

"What was that?" He asked as the vixen crouched beside him, the light flickering away not seconds after she arrived.

"My staff, it can provide temporary shielding." She explained tersely, the vixen painting and slightly out of breath. It seemed that however she did that must take some kind of physical toll on her. 

"You know, it would have been nice to share!" Miyu grumbled over the comms, the feline still stuck by the doorway. "Some of us don't have personal energy protection, just saying."

"I apologize, but such an action is difficult to do and takes some few moments of preparation. Even so, I could not safely get both of us across." She could only stretch the temporary barrier so far before it weakened to a point of near uselessness.

Six leaned out from behind the barricade, sighting and turning another enemy soldier into pulp. "This is a tactical advantage I could have been made aware of." He admonished her gently. If he had known previously of her talent, he might have planned this attack differently, perhaps not... but possibly.

"My... talents, are something I do not really like to talk about." The vixen explained as she fiddled with her staff, the scepter taking on a strange glow as she lithely extended herself out from behind the steel partition, a beam of golden energy flying out of the jeweled crest to strike down an ape that had attempted to stand, the unexpected shot easily piercing the soldier's thin armor.

The action did not catch Six by surprise, the spartan deciding there and then to merely except what he saw. If her staff fired lasers... then it fired lasers, as simple as that.

Though he did have his fair share of questions, he did not press her. Her secrets were her own to keep, just as his were. Their first priority was completing the mission, and of course providing assistance to their other companion.

"Miyu, on my signal, sprint to Krystal's position." The spartan ordered as he primed himself for action. He would have to provide a distraction suitable enough to buy her the time to make a clean break towards them. Six knew what to do, but was mildly hesitant. It had been some time since he went down that road, and he never felt quite right afterwards. Still, such measures were necessary, no matter their aftereffects.

"Alright, just give the word. I could use a change of scenery." The lynx replied with a chuckle.

Six grabbed the top of the barricade; rifle secured firmly in his other gauntlet as the muscles in his legs tightened, the supersoldier tense like a loaded gun.

In that moment he knew the battle in this room was over.

"Now," He barked, mantling over the steel barrier with all the speed of his warrior heritage. His greaves kicked out from under him, propelling the spartan on a terminal trajectory into war, the heavy rifle in his grip thundering deafeningly as he showered the immediate area in truly molten tungsten.

The sight of a colossal suit of hulking armor charging towards them, spitting out death from its equally massive firearm had the desired effect, every weapon in the room instantly focusing on the undeniable threat he posed. The volume of fire directed on Miyu dropped considerably and the feline was able to bolt inside, crossing the short expanse and ducking into cover besides Krystal. Once in position the feline readied to offer Six her assistance, but noticed that Krystal had yet to do the same, the vixen's staff resting idly in her padded grip. Miyu turned to ask the Krystal why she was just sitting there when she finally noticed the truth of the reason.

Six simply had no need of their help.

The spartan was a distortion to the eyes, a whirlwind of chaos and destruction so incomprehensibly fast that it was nigh impossible to track, even with their superior vision. Both women were nearly unable to comprehend the sight of Six as the spartan laid waste to the surviving venomian infantry spread across the expansive airlock, wholly incapable of perceiving his near instantaneous movements. Though held in one gauntlet, the rifle in his possession was no less dangerous for it, the weapon lethally accurate as it jumped precisely between targets, a single round more than sufficient in laying down anyone in his sight with brutal efficiency, exploding gaping holes in their vulnerable flesh with nauseating ease.

The gun eventually coughed dry as the remaining ammunition was expended. But that did not stop his storm of devastation. Without hesitation or reprieve, greave and gauntlet lashed out with bone crushing force, pulverizing flesh and armor with equal simplicity. Broken corpses sailed through the airless chamber, impelled by the spartan's incredible strength to float listlessly in the silent vacuum, leaking ruby red droplets into the oxygen and gravity deprived environment.

Panicked and most certainly terrified, the venomians peppered his armor with crimson energy beams, the severely depleted volume of fire muted by the shimmering golden haze of energy that enfolded him from helm to boots. It was clear to their doomed eyes that their attacks had little to no effect, only adding to their already mind numbing fear.

Despite this hectic display of carnage, the only sound coming from Six was his idle breathing over the comms, inhale and exhale as calm as if he was merely resting, not ending the lives of more than twenty people with his bare hands.

It was... extraordinary, something neither Krystal nor Miyu had realized before. This was their real, firsthand experience in fighting alongside Six. They had seen the bodies on the venomian battleship, the massacre left in his wake, but it was something else entirely to witness the spartan's proclivity for bloodshed with their own eyes as it occurred before them. It truly spoke volumes of what Six had intended when he expressed to them his creation to wage war.

The knowledge invoked conflicting emotions in both women. It was hard to place the man they knew in comparison to this specter of death before them, this.... demon of warfare.

Miyu recalled the conversation they had shared back one Corneria, when they had exchanged stories, the embrace he had swept her up in coming clearest to her mind.

This was the man that had held her close? The one who had eased her sorrows? If he had so wished he could have snapped her spine like dry kindling. Yet she hadn't felt endangered, in fact she had been reassured. And though by rights she should be afraid of his capabilities, knowing this fact about him brought her a level of security she had never experienced before. This was the man that had promised to keep her safe. If he would protect her then she had nothing to fear, from Venom or anything else they might face. She knew Six to be an extraordinarily single-minded and resolute individual. He had the kind of determination that could move mountains and potentially shake the foundations of a world. Nothing kept him from what he decided to do. So if he said she was safe, then she was unequivocally sheltered from harm.

Unsurprisingly, in the few moments she dwelled on these thoughts, Six had dispatched with the remaining venomian soldiers, their corpses suspended in zero gravity. The sight of thirty bodies trailing shards of frozen blood was... unsettling, especially in the dead silence of the airlock chamber. Miyu found that she had nothing to say, and would have been unable to articulate the words if she had.

Instead the feline squared her shoulders and moved to stand by the spartan, pushing away a corpse that had floated too near, earning a particularly queasy stomach in the process.

It was better not to look too closely.

Krystal was not far behind her, the vixen likely sharing similar thoughts on their situation as she observed the grisly sight.

Well this is what we signed ourselves up for. Miyu theorized with an internal shrug. Despite herself, the lynx could not help but think he had been rather badass, like an action hero flick on steroids. Instead of plowing through swarms of antiquated villains with cheesy puns, he decimated whole formations of battle-hardened infantry with ruthless discipline and eerie silence.

Seriously, it was kind of cool.

The feline could not help but feel pleased with herself.

I definitely knew how to pick 'em.

 

"I suppose this leaves us with just seventy baddies left to go through, eh?" The feline remarked casually, eyeing Six's armored back. The spartan had yet to move since the fight ended, his silver visored stare focused on the opposite wall, his weapon clasped firmly in one gloved hand, the other resting idly at his side.

A body drifted past his helmet, fragments of its shattered mask hovering beside it as the disfigured reptilian snout passed millimeters from his faceplate.

"Are you... alright?" The lynx asked hesitantly, uncertain what exactly was going through his mind at that moment. It was odd for Six to be like this, especially in an active warzone, no matter the fact he had brutally disassembled close to thirty people. She had never known the spartan to be so distracted when danger still loomed. 

The warrior remained unmoving and unspoken for a few more moments before shifting into activity once more, as if suddenly the whole world returned to him.

"I suppose you would be right." He agreed; his reply distant and unfocused as he unloaded his spent rifle and inserted a fresh magazine, either unaware of or choosing to ignore her previously stated concerns.

"We should keep moving." He suggested, turning on his heels and traversing the room to the interior console. Fiddling with the controls, he activated the cycling sequence and pumped the room full of air. Exterior sound returned just as gravity was restored, its arrival followed by the disturbingly wet smack of thirty floating bodies abruptly returning to the ground with the aid of artificial systems, the patter of blood sounding disconcertingly like summer rain as it drizzled to the flooring.

With a patient sigh, Miyu popped the seal on her helmet and tugged the olive drab covering off her head, turning to look at Krystal as she did, eyes shining with unspoken curiosity.

The vixen merely shrugged, unaware of what troubled the spartan. Following in the cat's footsteps, she removed her own helmet and belted it to her waist, moving to stand beside her friend.

All the vixen knew for certain was that he was in some kind of pain.

 

*****

 

Six scanned the deserted corridor as he lead the way deeper into the facility, on watch for even the slightest motion that they were in danger as his companions followed faithfully behind him. Since they had not encountered any more resistance since entering he was lead to believe either the enemy had expected the first position to stop them or they were lying in wait to ambush them.

Even so he should be entirely focused on the mission; the spartan was unable to completely put his disturbed thoughts to rest at the unsettling realization that came to him.

He had nearly lost control back there.

In the last few moments of the brief engagement he had nearly surrendered to the 'rage', the all-encompassing cavity of mindless aggression and cruelty that the office of naval intelligence had honed into him throughout their coldblooded tutelage. It was the very thing that had earned him his names, both from the insurrection and the Covenant, the monstrous darkness that allowed him to fulfil the unthinkable deeds he committed in their name and fight with such unmatched ferocity.

This brought to him a fear he had not felt since the sacking of his homeworld. It had been years since he last felt its comings. Six had thought he was finally rid of it.

The spartan snorted.

He should have known better.

Six was just thankful that his discipline had won out in the end, ripping him back into reality before it was too late. Otherwise he would have never been unable to forgive himself.

He was still haunted by the memory of what had nearly transpired, his detached, analytical thoughts returning to him in sickening clarity of when Miyu had approached.

Alien.

 

Felinoid.

 

Non-human.

 

Threat.

 

Eliminate.

 

Strike chest at half-strength, shatter ribs and collarbone, debilitate with pain.

 

Low kick, break legs, cripple movement.

 

Debilitated and crippled, execute quickly, force boot down on neck, shattering verteb-.

 

NO! Six denied vehemently, resisting the impulse to smash his fist across his helmet, instead continuing down the corridor with no outwards sign of distress.

That is not who I am, not anymore. I do not want to be that... thing.

 

He was done with ONI, finished with his past. There was no office, no inhuman directives to obey. He had escaped, though he had not considered it as such at first. But it mattered not. He had washed his hands of the errors of the past. He had finally found something that genuinely made him happy, a place where he could at last fit in, though graceless the transition may be. Six had never felt such things before. Everything had always been forthright in its cold and unsympathetic severity. War, for no other purpose had he served.

No matter how different this team might be they, were all he had. Such a sentiment as true joy was something he had long considered to be unattainable, having lost all hope to experience it firsthand. But that had changed, they had given it to him. Krystal had given it to him. And he would fight tooth and nail to keep it. He would destroy anything that might try to interfere, even himself.

Six could never forget what he had been, the evil he was directly and irrefutably responsible for. But he could strive to change, if for no other reason than that his team would be safer for it.

That they, would be safer for it.

His helm shifted slightly to the women trailing beside him. They had given him so much that he would die before he became responsible any suffering to befall them.

Six knew not what these returning thoughts of old signified, but it could not possible involve anything good.

"Are you alright, Six?" Krystal interrupted his thoughts, the female fox watching him closely, as observant and concerned as ever.

"Yeah, kinda got the feeling you were out of it back there." The voice of Miyu issued from below him and to his left, supporting the vixen's argument.

The spartan in reaction forced an unconscious, placating smile onto his scarred face, though they could not hope to see it.

"I'm fine," he answered. "Just... on guard." The soldier lied through his teeth. Even if he so desired he would not know how to explain his situation. This was something no other could help him with. Only he could save him from himself.

But if he was unsuccessful, if he proved to be a threat to those he cared for....

The spartan's gauntlet trailed instinctively to the sidearm mag-locked to his thigh.

He would not let it get that far.

"Well, if you say so." Miyu replied, not entirely convinced. Something was up with the man, she could sense it. But now was not the time to worry about it. Later, after the mission was finished.

Moving slightly faster than him, she turned to round the corridor but was halted instantly as the spartan swiftly snatched the collar of her armor, tugging at it forcefully as she let out an unbecoming yowl. He yanked the startled feline backwards, just as a wave of searing hot lasers filled the corridor she had nearly entered. 

Her senses overloaded by the near instant and violent shift in her movement, the cat barely realized how close she had brushed with her own mortality as she looked up to her savior.

"Thanks." She mumbled weakly, her gut clenching tight at the near death experience.

"Don't mention it." The spartan replied steadfastly as he partially leaned into the corridor for a brief moment, sending a burst of fire down range, the ;arge weapon deafening in the compact corridor. The action was met quickly with several final shouts of pain and surprise as the intensity of the barrage lessened. 

"Seems I am not the only one that is, 'out of it.'" He chuckled softly, the bark of his rifle cutting out the reverberations of his low laughter.

Lucky for her it seemed as if he was in a forgiving mood, though she noticed their other companion was not. The skin inside her ears turned a deep crimson as the feline gave Krystal a bashful look, lowering to her skull as the vixen eyed her reproachfully.

"Do try not to get yourself killed, otherwise I alone will have claim over the prize." The vixen smirked knowingly.

"Heh, don't get too comfortable with the thought." Miyu snapped in good-humor as she reached for her blaster. "I'm not going anywhere."

"A shame..." The vixen muttered in jest, already sending a bolt from her staff-like weapon down the corridor to augment the spartan's fire with her own.

Once Miyu joined in short work was made of the next batch of venomian defenders, more than a handful of bodies strewn about the pre-fab hallway.

"Ya know, at this rate. Pretty soon we're gonna run out of enemies." The feline remarked as she followed Six down the now clear passageway.

"Is that disappointment I hear?" Six inquired, barely offering a glance at the corpse he stepped over. The spartan had no interest in the dead, having become numb to such things over the course of his war-ravaged existence. This was barely a postscript in the dissertation of conflict that was his life, and a pathetic one at that.

As he waited for her response the human warrior checked the ammo counter for his rifle, one eye on his weapon and the other the corridor ahead. He did not come as far as he had by not taking precautions.

Twelve rounds left.

 

His conviction was rewarded when his motion tracker lit up once more, a small grouping of red dots heading on a direct course for them.

More than enough.

 

"Not disappointment per say, it's more like... curiosity."

"Then fear not, for you shall soon have your fill." He informed her as he moved into position, intending to offer himself as cover for the approaching firefight. With nowhere to hide in the exposed corridor, it was only logical that he took the brunt of any attack with his superior armor.

"You know what they say about curiosity and the cat." Krystal quipped lightly, the vixen already taking cover behind the newly erected living barrier that would be dubbed the 'spartan wall' from then on.

"Yeah, satisfaction brought it back if I remember correctly." Miyu countered just as wittily, boldly resting the barrel of her blaster on the spartan's shoulder and perhaps getting too close to him in the process. But was it really her fault? How did one resist such a rare opportunity? The answer was simple.

You didn't.

Something soft flicked across her cheek and she turned to cut Krystal a short glare, the vixen having tapped the cat with the tip of her tail in reproach.

Yet before they could continue their silent bantering, the spartan open fired as the venomian squad rounded the corner, the small troop easily dispatched by their effective ambush. With the path once more free of obstruction they continued forward. Since they had yet to find a branching off point, he could only assume they were heading the right way.

The next few minutes of delving into the facility was met with increasingly weaker resistance as the enemy thinned out. Each consecutive fight was briefer then the last, and once they did finally come across a crossroads they merely followed the defenders deeper in. The venomians were certainly not good at misdirection or subterfuge. It was quite simple to find which direction they were coming from and take the path offered. And though he was certain he could have easily accomplished this on his own, the presence of Miyu and Krystal was not as much of a hindrance as he had first expected it would be.

Six was surprised to find that they made a good team, though their idle banter was something he would need to acclimatize to. Despite the hostility he had observed between the two women, they functioned quite well together in a fireteam, with coordination and proficiency he would have expected to find in only the most battle-hardened ODST battalions. They were no spartans certainly, and they were perhaps more blasé then he would have liked, but they sure as hell weren't pushovers. He could only find his respect for them growing.

Yet he was not wholly satisfied, and would not be until he had taken every step, every precaution necessary, that might see them through this fight any other to come afterwards. He had already taken it upon himself to teach Miyu further in the arts of war, though that had been near instantly halted after the... incident. However spartans were nothing if not persistent. Once he had the time their lessons would resume and in further detail to touch bases on all fields of combat. He would also try and include Krystal in this. Although her telepathy would provide some... unique altercations, and perhaps even possibilities to enhance the speed of her training.

But this was for much later, they had immediate concerns to deal with, his thoughts focusing back in as they reached a main chamber in the center of the venomian base.

"Looks clear." Miyu indicated as she cast an eye over the array of empty chairs and abandoned consoles in the dark room, rifle raised in preparation for any imminent fight. 

"They might have cut power to this part of the facility." Krystal theorized upon seeing the dimly lit and deserted command chamber. In all likelihood the cowardly foe had scattered upon hearing of their approach.

"That matters not." Six stepped past them to the nearest console, easily ripping open the access panel before digging into the mess of wires within. "I will have it back soon enough."

True to word less than four minutes later the lights in the ceiling flickered back on as power was restored to the bank of terminals. From there they watched in fascination as the spartan manipulated the workstation, deft fingers dancing across the glowing orange keys of the haptic-interface.

"Wow Six, I had no idea you were so tech savvy." Miyu tried to lean over his towering shoulder in vain, instead choosing to peer from his side, watching in wonder as a sheet of data scrolled across the screen.

"I was taught many things by my.... superiors." There was a clear note of... displeasure as he spoke that word, his attention still centered generally on the console. "I have some measure of inclination towards these things. Cyberwarfare is still warfare after all."

A mischievous smirk suddenly formed on the feline's muzzle. "Say, do you think you're skilled enough to hack well I don't know.... say Falco's computer?"

"Such a thing would not be beyond... my... capabilities." The speed of the spartans typing and verbal response slowed and his helmet slowly wheeled in her direction warily.

"Why?"

 

"Nothing, just thinking aloud is all." The cat replied innocently, pulling an expression Krystal knew well.

The vixen could overhear tidbits of their discussion as she guarded the door, her smirk growing stronger.

"No..." Six's firm response...

"But why? It would be hilarious." The feline's desperate plea...

"No."

 

"Pweese?"

"No."

 

"Pretty Pweese?"

A pause before...

"...No."

 

"Not even for me?" The cat tried one last time.

"..........."

Miyu's ears perked forwards expectantly, the feline visibly leaning forwards in the spartan's silence, tail quivering with anticipation.

"No."

 

The cat instantly deflated, slumping in defeat.

"Gah," She swiped a paw half-heartedly in his direction. "What a wet blanket" Muttering darkly, she sulked towards the door, her mischief makery shot down before it could even gain flight.

"Who brought this guy along?" She demanded of the air and stabbed a thumb in his direction, receiving no answer other than a poorly concealed snort from Krystal.

Just as Miyu was about to tell the vixen exactly where she could shove her grin, Six spoke.

"There, we have what we came for." He declared, stepping away from the machine as he eyed the device latched onto his wrist armor. There was not much data to begin with, and most of it was indeed what Fox was looking for. Yet he had caught something else of interest deeper in the coding, hidden better than the rest.

Most of it was still encrypted but pointed to someone the remnants were looking for, an undisclosed individual that had information on a threat of some nature, hiding on a planet whose name was buried in the source code. The spartan huffed irritably. He was experienced, but it would take time to crack the rest of the data, that or some outside help.

Perhaps it was time to see ROB.

Sighing, he snapped the panel on his TACPAD shut, heavy boots echoing through the empty room. They got what they came for and hunting down the survivors would be a waste of time. The mission was easier than he expected, not that the spartan was complaining. It was done and no one had been injured, what he would call a near perfect operation. It was nice to have an easy victory. He'd had few of those before.

Signaling to his teammates, he headed for the doors, intent on contacting Fox and returning to the ship.

"Let's get out of here."


	25. A Past Better Left Buried

Chapter 24: A Past Better Left Buried

 

 

The reverberation of determined, armored footsteps packed the starship's narrow corridor as Six journeyed his way down to the crew deck, the spartan keen on speaking with his Captain. The security measures on the encoded information had proved to be more of a challenge than expected and with his numerous diurnal tasks onboard the ship keeping him busy, it had taken the spartan a few days to break through the encryption. ROB had demonstrated himself as a surprisingly helpful asset in that regard, the machine's processing power proving to be the nudge he needed to crack it.

 

That was the first time he had encountered an automaton, such machines did not exist in the UNSC and the Covenant had never bothered to utilize mechanized warriors. ROB was just a foot shorter then him and while stocky, did not appear to be designed for combat duties, lacking any visible weaponry and a lack of sufficient armor. Their encounter had been a rather interesting affair though and he had copious amounts of notes stored on his  
MJOLNIR's data drives, now joining the significant files he had gathered since his arrival. So far Six had compiled several terabytes of information on the system's history and the Starfox team. It was more of a force of habit and means to pass the time than anything else. Had the UNSC existed such info would be vital to any communications to occur between the two sovereignties. Yet as humanity did not seemingly exist and he was cognizant of the data, already having researched this himself, it served little but perhaps as some form of posterity.

 

But there was information that was still useful, like that recovered from the venomian asteroid installation. The translated data had uncovered a planet, a name, and an objective. But it was the objective that put haste into his steps.

 

The aparoids.... whatever the information this individual possessed, it vitally pertained to the impending extragalactic threat. It was new a development that the Remnant was aware of the aparoids but not important in the overall grand design. The documents were what mattered, and they were not specific in their details on why, but any lead they discovered could not be refuted. They had neither the time nor luxury to pick and choose what was worth following. Each trace of information was imperative and must be treated as such.

That being, the sooner they set out the better.

 

Arriving at the vulpine's door, he knocked firmly on the steel access way, impatiently standing in the corridor as he waited for a response.

Thankfully he was not kept long as the bulkhead hissed open, revealing a  
partially clothed Fox.

 

"What is it, Six?" He mumbled tiredly, dressed in a pair of colorful boxer briefs and a hastily thrown on tank top.

 

Having taken off his MJOLNIR soon after the mission, the spartan glanced at his isolated TACPAD's chronometer, realizing that hammering on the vulpine's door at two o'clock in the morning was perhaps not the most subtle of moves. Still, this information was possibly critical and as such could not be allowed to wait.

 

"We need to talk." He replied. "It may involve the... discussion we had before." 

 

Confusion was plainly writ on Fox's muzzle before he understood the spartan's implications. Any trace of exhaustion was wiped away from his expression as the vulpine adopted a serious guise and ushered Six into his room to talk in private.

 

The vulpine's quarters were as Six remembered them, minor curios scattered about the desk and a few shelves just above it. An armored porthole next to the bureau offered  
a clear view of the star speckled void, an amenity solely for the captain it seemed. The spartan paid such things little heed as he moved to Fox's desk, taking a seat as the drowsy vulpine fiddled with a machine. Soon, the familiar aroma of coffee filled the confined and homely space.

 

Six waited patiently as Fox prepared himself a drink, declining an offer for a mug of his own. Shrugging, the vulpine resignedly lowered himself into the cushioned chair, pulling the mug to his muzzle and taking in a deep draft of the hot, caffeinated beverage.

 

"Alright, lay it on me." He mumbled through the cup.

 

With a nod Six detached his TACPAD from his wrist and set the miniature tactical computer down on the desk, turning the screen so his commander could read what was displayed.

 

Taking one more sip from his mug, Fox leaned closer and grabbed the device, pulling it nearer to interpret the tiny digital script. He scanned the first few lines of text before a deep frown formed.

 

"Fichina?" He muttered in confusion. "What the hell do the Remnants want with that frigid snow ball?"

 

Six had done his own homework on the planet. Extreme arctic conditions, low habitability and minimal colonization  
efforts. The only purpose it served was as a research and military outpost for the CDF. Otherwise it held no real tactical value. The spartan had at first thought they intended to attack, but the sheer amount of resources needed to siege a hazardous ice world exceeded that of the Remnants capabilities to produce and the world in itself held little strategic value. It had only been after he cracked the rest of the data that he uncovered the real reason behind their interest.

 

Likewise Fox soon found out for himself as he scanned partway through the rest of the text, his frown deepening in response as he set down his drink. "So..." He sighed heavily, leaning back into his chair. "This has something to do with the Aparoids."

 

Six nodded grudgingly.

 

It seemed as if some form of device had been recovered by the Remnant, whatever it was being a vital clue as to the cryptic origin of the strange creatures. Yet, the object had been stolen from them, the perpetrator fleeing to the frozen planet in an effort to escape their pursuers.

And as Fox read who exactly had appropriated it, he let out a longer, more protracted sigh and a displeased grunt. "Damn..."

 

Confused, Six glanced to the screen, at the digital mug shot of the thief. "You know this person?"

 

"That particular feline," Fox began with a resigned gesture at the screen. "Is none other than Katt Monroe, an old friend of ours, Falco in particular." The vulpine shook his head wearily. "She always knew how to get herself in trouble. Though by the looks of it she really stepped in it this time."

 

Six studied the image in greater detail, hoping to perhaps glean how important this Katt was. The only unique aspects he could see was her decidedly outlandish fur color, and that imperiously smug grin, which uneasily reminded him of the cat he already had to deal with. No matter, he only needed to know one thing.

 

"So, are we going after her?"

 

Fox ruminated on the decision for a few moments before nodding firmly. "Yes, we don't abandon our own. No matter what trouble she's found herself in, we'll get her out." His secondary concern was the device she had stolen, her life was more important than whatever it might be. Katt may not be a full member of Starfox, but she was still family.

 

"Just give me the order, Fox." Whatever needed doing, the spartan would see it done.

The vulpine smiled at his friend in appreciation,  
feeling truly fortunate to have a comrade like Six to rely on. "Head to the bridge and have ROB redirect our course. We're quite aways from Fichina so the sooner we get moving the better." He performed a quick mental calculation. "Halfway back to Corneria, it should take about... four days to arrive. Hopefully she can last that long."

 

Fox sounded uncertain; she had most likely already been in hiding for some time. And while four days did not sound like a lot, time took a whole new meaning once you were being hunted. However he had hope, just like everyone on the team, she was a survivor. She would make it, and when they did arrive, she would be brought back safe and sound.

 

Six rose from his seat and saluted Fox, swiftly departing the cabin with his typical single-minded purpose and stride. No doubt before Fox even prepared to send General Pepper the report on this new development the ship would already be well into its new heading.

 

*****

 

Krystal stepped into the hanger's open expanse, ears flicking in agitation at the wall of industrial white noise that assaulted her sensitive hearing. She did not like coming down her whenever Slippy was occupied with his routine maintenance. The vixen preferred quiet, peaceful environments, which was certainly not the hangar bay of a starship. Still, the reasons for her arrival  
were important enough to push aside her distaste. Doing her best to ignore the shrill whine of power tools and screeching metal, she fixed herself a resolute gait and headed towards the familiar bulk of her spartan, who she saw partially hidden under his ship on a mechanic's creeper, arms buried deep inside the inner workings.

 

Surprisingly enough, Slippy was with him as well, the toad working on a wing as he stood beside a hovercart loaded with parts, which upon closer inspection revealed themselves to be weapons mounts. Krystal faintly recalled hearing Six talking about something involving his ship, this must be what he had been referring to. It would certainly explain why he had been so busy for the past few days. The spartan had hardly been to their room to sleep since they finished their last mission. And though she missed him when he went off like that she had realized long ago that their relationship would not be an easy one.

 

But it was what she wanted. After all, good things in life did not come without sacrifice. She would have to content herself with the knowledge that eventually they would stop fighting, that she, Six, and Miyu she supposed, could move away from all this, find a place to settle down, far away from the problems of the galaxy. Let the next generation of heroes take their place. The vixen had only passed her nineteenth naming day some months ago, yet she could not help but find herself tired of this life, waiting for the time it would all be behind her.

 

However, as much as she looked forward to that day, she could not extinguish the little voice in her head, the one that whispered she would never get that chance. And while she could not remove it, she could do her damn best to ignore it. She had so many concerns to worry about that the last thing she needed was self-doubt to find a place amongst them.

 

I will have what I deserve. We will have what we deserve. She promised herself. 

 

Six deserved peace, had endured more than his fair share of sacrifices and unremitting obligations, to no longer feel the need to force himself into battle until he fought against odds he just could not beat. Krystal would give everything to stop that day from coming, her own life if need be. He was her everything, she would not and could not hope continue on without him, his passing would leave an abyssal void in her heart that could never be mended. He had shown her so much, about herself and what the word sacrifice truly stood for. He was the anchor that kept her soul firmly rooted, the guardian she had never thought to have but desperately needed.

 

These ponderous facts on her mind, Krystal approached the working pair, studying the quite literally alien spacecraft, focusing mostly on its unique design. The manufacture was so unlike anything produced by any of the locals of this system, bulky, rugged, monochrome, and yet magnificent in some mysterious form, like a lunging bird of prey. It was reminiscent in a way of the armor he wore, sleek, powerful, and dangerous, much like its owner. She knew now the true nature of his past, what dangers he must have faced to warrant such extreme combat ability and emotional purgatory.

 

It was a world she would never wish to live in, one where he had just barely managed to escape. Krystal knew not the type of man he was back where he came from, nor did she care. She knew the kind of  
man he would become here. And it was that man that she had given her heart to, would follow dutifully and faithfully until her dying days. She would be behind him. No matter the circumstance, no matter the odds.

 

They would endure together.

 

But these were matters for another time, an indeterminate ways down the road of life. Here in this moment, they had work to do. The details were unusually scarce, but she had learned that they were once more setting out on a mission, this time to help an old friend. Krystal remembered Katt quite well; the feline was certainly hard to forget. She and Miyu shared much in common, perhaps too much.

 

Still, a friend was a friend, no matter how uncouth they might be, just like Falco. At times she was tempted to gut him with her claws, yet at the end of the day he was a member of the team and her family, asshole and all.

 

Her musing took her all the way to the side of Six's craft, the spartan's military grade boots sticking out from under the ship in some bizarre parody of story she once recalled reading... something about wizards in a land of odds if her memory served her right?

 

A teasing smile tugging at her black, distinctly canine lips, the vixen toed at his boots with a sandal, rewarded some moments later with the uneven rattle of wheels as he slowly emerged from underneath, oil stains near invisible on his onyx jumpsuit, just one of the many articles of clothing he had purchased for himself. Though she had noticed he had yet to get anything  
remotely 'civilian'.

 

Upon seeing who had disturbed him, she watched in pleased satisfaction as a similarly relaxed grin appeared on his face. The softened edge to his otherwise generally stern crimson gaze and slight notes of warmth in his rugged expression was all it took to brighten her day considerably. Here was a man that had never found reason to smile in his life. Yet she was able to draw such an exceptionally exclusive manifestation from him.

 

Krystal found that the more time she spent gazing at his alien features, the more enamored she became with his distinctiveness.

 

He really should smile more often.

 

The vixen found that she enjoyed it immensely. It would be a tragedy to hide such an attractive visage away.

 

"What brings you down here?" The spartan asked absentmindedly, having spent the better part of six hours assisting Slippy with his Sabre's renovations. With ammo for his UNSC munitions near exhausted, he had been forced to look for alternatives. Thus this coordinated effort with Slippy, the toad assisting him with installing new weaponry.

 

In response he merely received a wain tilt of the vixen's muzzle as she looked silently down upon him, Krystal patiently waiting for the spartan to connect the unspoken dotes. She had become used to the fact that Six often forgot his other obligations, such as the dinner he and she had been scheduled to share, a dinner she reminded herself, that was supposed to have transpired two hours ago.

 

Faced with such a look, the spartan racked his memory, realized what he had forgotten, and gave a suitably sheepish nod... well, as close to sheepish as a spartan could hope to imitate. which looked more like an uncertain shrug.

 

Krystal decided in that moment that it was cute in its own eccentric way.

 

Reticent in his mistake, Six slowly rose from the creeper to stand awkwardly beside the bemused vixen, hands clasped firmly behind his back as if under the scrutinizing gaze of a superior officer. He had yet to grasp the full complexity of his newfound commitments, things like scheduled dinners easily brushed away by his subconscious mind. He had thought that ensuring that he had at least spoken with her a few times a day would be sufficient in placating the female fox.

 

He should have known to expect little success in such an ill-conceived tactic.

 

It was not that he was loath to spend time with her. On the contrary, he very much welcomed her presence, it being one of the very  
few things he desired that uplifted his mood. But he had a list of responsibilities that spanned several pages on his TACPAD, modifications to his MJOLNIR, the Sabre, weapon upkeep, even plans he had recently drew up with Slippy to improve the team's aerial and groundside armaments. As such he had been exceedingly busy the past few days, to the point where he had not slept in the past thirty-six hours.

 

Ironically, he put himself through all of this for her benefit. The better his equipment, the better he could fight, the better he could keep her safe. Everything was for her and the team. Now however, he would have to factor in private leisure time for her, the spartan already crunching numbers in his head to calculate how to fit this into his already tight schedule. Perhaps if he shifted his weapon drills and armor maintenance to early morning, he could divert the term usually scheduled for the Sabre's diagnostics to a more interchangeable timetable, that would allow him some latitude for instances such as this in the future.

 

"Lylat to Six, you in there?" The spartan felt a gentle rap on his forearm, turning to regard the amused vixen standing next to him.

 

"My apologies." He responded contritely, stowing away his considerations for a later time.

 

Smiling to show him it was alright, the vixen focused on Slippy, who had watched the exchange with some measure of amusement of his own. The amphibian was glad to see Six finally finding a niche in the team, lowering his otherwise  
stringent guard, however minutely. If anyone could help him find a place for himself, it was Krystal. She was the kind of soul that could influence even an inhibited and bitter man like him. The spartan could not have picked a better match.

 

"Do you mind if I borrow him for a while?" The vixen asked, the tips of her ivory fangs visible from the thin-lipped, rueful smile she offered.

 

Slippy waived her off with a laugh and a grin. "Feel free, I can take care of the rest of this on my own." Noticing the spartan's uncertainty, he continued. "Go on, don't worry about me. I'm a quick learner. I think I've already got a grasp of this tech. In fact it's already given me a few ideas..." The toad trailed off, mumbling to himself on the many possibilities UNSC technology offered as he scratched thoughtfully at his bald head with a spanner.

 

"See, he's got it. Now come on. It's not polite to keep a lady waiting." Krystal urged, shepherding the silent, slightly bewildered spartan out of the hanger and into the corridor, intent on getting the meal and time she had been promised.

 

As they passed through the halls, the vixen purposefully slipped a slender paw through the crook of his muscled arm, nestling up to his burly chest. Despite an involuntary twitch, Six showed no outwards reaction to her affection, what she took as his acceptance. Muzzle resting on his upper arm in utter satisfaction, she held him close and allowed her thoughts to wander.

 

It was a good day, a sunny day. The  
flowers in the park were at full bloom and a soft summer breeze carried the fragrant scent of pollen as they meandered down the moss covered cobblestone path. Ahead of them, a pair of lively kits ran through verdant fields of low cut grass, born of her own womb or adopted, neither mattered in her fantasy.

 

The fighting had ended, Venom would never rise to prominence again. The Lylat System was at a peace unheard of in a hundred years. The team had split on good terms and went their separate ways, forever lifelong friends.

 

On her urging they had settled on Sauria, a world that reminded her of her own and a newfound lylatian colony, Six had found work that did not threaten his life and she was able to find employ of her own as a grief counselor for those in need. And she had the rest of her life to find out just who the man was that she fell in love with.

 

Miyu did not have a place in this dream, not yet. She was unsure how to factor the feline in though she realized she would have to eventually. But for now she would content herself in this one pleasant thought, a future she desperately wished to make a reality.

 

The vixen felt a light touch on her shoulder, slowly coming out of her daze to Six's ever attentive eyes, those blood red irises studying her with mute curiosity, an undeclared question on his aristocratic expression. Before them the door to the mess hall lay open, the faint echo of chatter emanating from the entrance.

 

She smiled softly, dismissing his concerns  
with a negligible shake of her head. Krystal had a feeling that he might not be ready to share in her dreams. The spartan had still quite a ways to go before a peaceful civilian life sounded in any way appealing to him, and she doubted he had even begun to consider being a father. Better to let such thoughts wait, one day she would broach the subject, that she promised. But that day was not today. For now, they would enjoy this brief, peaceful moment, for however long it lasted.

 

Leading him inside, Krystal found a majority of the team to be present, all except for Slippy and Peppy, she having just seen the toad down in the hanger and the hare most likely locked away in his room with one of those dusty tomes he was so fond of reading. She held back the frown she felt developing and pressed forwards to sit at the table they shared.

 

The group's low conversation paused for a few moments, Fox turning to greet the approaching pair.

 

"Six, Krystal, you're just in time for a late-night meal." The vulpine acknowledged them with the ever present warmth he always had ready.

 

"What's the occasion?" She asked, Six remaining silent for the moment, a lingering aura of unease still cast over him. The spartan had yet to become a sparkling conversationalist but that would come to him in time. She was sure of that.

 

"No reason, just an evening dinner between friends." Miyu replied, though the feline's attention was centered on Six, the cat giving him a warm grin as he put in an order for the  
hall's autonomous meal machine, or AMP as most of the CNDF called it. The AMPs had become a staple of the Cornerian navy in the last decade, allowing them to divert personnel to more important duties.

 

Though, the quality of naval food had decreased sharply since then it should be noted.

 

Not everyone was glad for this party. Krystal would have preferred to dine alone with Six, the time they spent together having become a rare commodity as of late. However tonight would not be such a night she realized with a well-concealed sigh. Putting her desires aside, the vixen grabbed a meal and settled herself in beside Miyu and Fay, her spartan finding a place for himself next to Fox and the ever arrogant blue pheasant, perhaps more comfortable sitting beside the men then trapped between women.

 

After a few fleeting words to appease the others, Krystal adopted an air of muteness, unwilling for the moment to contribute in the mutual conversation the team had going since they arrived. Instead her eyes centered on Six, watching as the spartan consumed his meal with autonomous and meticulous intent, dividing and ingesting the stew with the same impassive quality as he dispensed to the remnant soldiers he fought. No doubt Six was deep in thought as he was often to do and the vixen wondered what went through his mind in those moments, how frequently those contemplations were about her.

 

Disconnected with the current of discussion as she was, Krystal nearly did not hear Falco as he spoke.

 

"So, Six..." The avian began, setting down his fork to focus intently on the spartan, readying to air a question he had been eager to ask for quite a long time. "Do you have any good war stories? Are there any action packed blockbusters hidden and untapped in that ol noggin of yours?"

 

Silence descended upon the room at that particularly pointed inquiry.

 

The spartan paused his meal, utensil still impaled in the half-eaten dinner as his gaze deliberately lifted upwards to regard the multi-hued bird. Six's eyes, as dark and somber as arterial spray, studied Falco's eager expression with an indecipherable stare. It was of the same quality that Miyu had once had the unwelcome privilege to witness for herself when she had traveled down a similar road, pressing him too far on issues he would keep private.

 

To be fair it was a harmless question. Some soldiers enjoyed the act of storytelling, a tradition that had been observed for thousands of years. It was just the soldier in question happened to not be one of those varieties. Six had not and never will fancy himself a teller of tales.

 

The spartan knew this. Nonetheless, the invasive sentiment remained. He had elected not to share his past for unpretentious reasons, motives that did not need a genius to deduce. Simply put, he did not care for his past. In fact he rather despised it. Daring or impossible as the feats may have been, as courageous and heroic as some might call it, he held no love for his previous years. It had been a war for the very survival of his race, one he had endured, suffered, since  
childhood. 

 

How could one find any foundation for amusement in retelling former hard-won victories and crushing defeats? The scale of war and loss of life was monumental in comparison to this relatively minor brushfire conflict with these Remnants.

 

Entire worlds had burned to cinders; their populations immolated and destroyed. Cremation on a planetary scale. Billions died, innocents and soldiers alike caught in the galactic, genocidal crossfire. To surrender was to be slaughtered and to fight was to die. Yet what choice did they have? What choice did he have?

 

Bluntly, he had none. Six had fought, through endless warzones on countless worlds, killing thousands in an effort to stem the inexhaustible tide of mass murdering aliens, seemingly as endless as the stars themselves. He was never good enough, wasn't fast enough, or strong enough to save anyone, not even with his augmentations. He had watched as the good died, just as often as the bad, guilty and innocent, young and decrepit, courageous and cowardly, the weak and the strong. The enemy cared little for which you were as long as you were dead.

 

Race and creed mattered not. For once in countless millennia, the heart and soul of humanity had unified under a single, universal goal.

 

Survival.

 

And as the gory, laborious years of warfare dragged on, that possibility had begun to wither and died alongside their race.

 

So what 'blockbuster' did Falco wish to hear? The massacres at Actium, Ariel, Troy, Fumirole, the loss of Arcadia or the fall of Reach? Did he wish to hear the screams of civilians that ravaged the coppery air, contaminated with the scent of blood, fighting for the right to supersede the guttural howls of monstrous aliens and the ceaseless rattle of ballistic weapons fire warring with the harsh whine of Covenant plasma? Would a televised rendition of the glassing of Alexandria be enough to sate his curiosity? Did he wish to watch the slaughter that was Reach?

 

If so, Six had more than enough material to shove down his throat. Falco would choke on the sheer volume of death. Perhaps then he would not ask Six again for a 'good story'.

 

The spartan was no storyteller, no weaver of fanciful and uplifting tales. His past was not filled with heroes, only the dead. He did not wish to delve back there, to that darkness. He did not wish to speak of war unless it was present and immediate or in the preparation for it. Six had his fill of death long ago, yet he would continue to fight, for that was all he knew how to do. As long as there were orders and enemies to kill, he would endure, for the opposite scared him just as much.

 

Krystal sought to change this in him, to show him another path. And he hoped, for his own sake, that she would be successful, for he could not find it on his own, could not see it alone.

 

But perhaps, if it would end their unwanted questions forevermore, he would show them the hell he had been born into. They would see just what real demons were.

 

He had hoped not to revisit his past, even in memory it was... unpleasant, to put it moderately. He most assuredly had never wanted anyone else to see it, especially those he held in high regard. It was one thing to watch it all over again from an apathetic perspective of a researcher, and a whole nother to see it played out like some cinematographic piece to vulgarly entertain an audience. Even so, if their curiosity would not abate, then he had little choice than to put an end to it in such a way that would destroy the desire to press for further questions. 

 

He could never tell the story of Reach's collapse, but he could show it to them.

 

And so it was with great reluctance that he removed his TACPAD. If they so desired to see what place he came from, then they would have their fill. 

 

*****

 

By now, after having been under the spartan's crimson scrutiny for several tense minutes, a feeling of unease built up in Falco's gut like a rock, comprised with sediments of disquiet and agitation. Although unreadable, that gaze spoke volumes in itself. It told him of a man he had thought he had had been beginning to understand, and how he knew nothing. 

 

It was an expression he had seen many times, years ago, before he had joined up with Fox. In the days of the Hot Rodders, his old gang. That had been the face worn by some of the more savage cutthroats they had dealt with, the kind of individual that would kill you just for looking their way. It was the type he had judiciously avoided like the plague. He may have been arrogant, but Falco knew the group of people who were best left alone. 

 

Unable to hold the executioneresque gaze for long, Falco turned away, noticing how tense the others were. Fox and Krystal knew Six the best, which is why their apprehension was of little comfort to him. Fay appeared ready to bolt at a moment's notice and Miyu, surprisingly enough, seemed rather nonchalant in regards to the possibility of his imminent vivisection. Not that he suspected the feline would care. 

 

He caught movement on the edge of his peripherals and winced, expecting something to strike, for the spartan to dole out his swift judgement. When finally, after several moments passed and no blow landed, Falco looked to the man, watching uncertainly as the human deposited his unlatched arm device onto the center of the table with deliberate, nearly reverential care. Popping open the casing, he tapped on the interface, activating the miniature computer's projector. 

 

Now curious, Falco and the others gazed on with rapt attention as the holographic screen now displayed, coalesced into a blurry image that soon took the semi-solid shape of an aerial vehicle's troop bay, focused on a pair of very familiar, dark blue boots. 

 

Falco immediately turned to Six, realizing at that point that he and the others were getting more than just a story. They were all catching a first hand account of the spartan's past. Yet the soldier's expression was as inexpressive as a block of solid granite and twice as impenetrable. He seemingly disinterested as he returned to his meal with his previous stoicism. 

 

Before he could linger on why Six appeared not to care, the video began to play. And in that moment, not one of them could look away.

 

*****

 

The cacophonous roar of the hornet's thundering blades was muted by his armor's audio dampener, Six hardly paying attention to the incessant noise as he methodically performed yet another magazine check for his marksman rifle. A glance out of the VTOL told him that they were nearing Sword Base, the monumental cliffs and spires of stone similar to those he had seen on the map. He had paid little attention to Cater's in-flight briefing, even as the man spoke now. He only need know one thing, where the enemy was. 

 

And that he already knew. 

 

A minute shift in movement to his left was Jorge, the older Spartan-II eyeing him with what was no doubt disappointment behind that reflective gold visor. Six did not question how his elder knew what he thought. The old bastard had proved to be a perceptive individual, and when they spoke with each other it was cause for more than a few arguments. 

For a spartan, especially a II, he had an odd view on the world.

 

Six scoffed.

 

Odd was putting it lightly. How the senior hungarian could even assume that they would survive this was a mystery, even more so then his eccentric beliefs. As if they had any other life to live but war. Not that it mattered. In the end they were all dead anyways.

 

Everyone knew, down to the last man, woman, and child, that once the Covenant found a world, the populace was doomed to die, as was anyone who defended it. Right now they were just staving off the inevitable with that good ol human trait that had carried them so far in this dangerous galaxy, determination. Though Six liked to believe it was more stubbornness. As a whole, humanity was just too tenacious to die. They wouldn't let a little thing like a genocidal alien armada get in the way of their headstrong ways.

 

Carter's voice intruded upon his sulking inner monologue.

 

"Cat, Six, you're out here. Jorge, Emile, you're next. Get prepped."

 

The spartan-III was given a good view of the forward base's courtyard as the Hornet pulled in rapidly on its approach vector, the glow of multicolored jackal shields easily discerned from dull grey alloy of the exterior compound. Bright flashes of light, dull orange and vibrant rainbows, signaled the clash between human and Covenant forces. From his aerial position he spied a few marines still fighting, a high percentage of their brethren lying unmoving on the ground. 

 

That was unfortunate, less men meant less control. And the situation had already deteriorated rapidly. This would have to be handled quickly before it completely collapsed.

 

"Let's move Lieutenant!" 

 

Six glanced up to his fellow blue armored spartan and gave a curt nod, sighing internally as he shouldered his rifle. 

 

Once more into the breach as the saying went.

 

The hornet swooped in low and he swiftly disembarked, Katt hot on his heels as they hit the ground running. Wasting no time, he sprinted to the nearest supply crate, stacking up behind the large olive drab container and reached to his bandolier to extract a fragmentation grenade. Since most Covenant infantry used shields of some form, the purpose of handheld explosives had been reduced to little more then a means to soften them up. 

 

Signaling his advance with a green flash sent to Katt's HUD, he rounded the crate and pressed forwards. Frag in one hand and rifle in the other, he encountered his first target, and second most despised Covenant footsoldier.

 

The jackal squawked angrily at him from behind its circular energy shield, the plasma pistol in its clawed fist glowing brightly with impending violence. 

 

He loathed the race of scavengers with what some might call an unusual abhorrence for a spartan. The squat and scaly bird-like aliens were only just below the brutes in his detestation of the Covenant species'. Vultures would have been a better word for them, these despicable creatures had been recorded to eat the few prisoners of war taken, children, even other lower races within their ranks. They subsisted off whatever flesh they could get their talons on and were cowardly as a whole. What was worse, their corpses smelled particularly unpleasant.

 

He would feel no particular guilt in ending its miserable existence.

 

With disdain, Six fired a round into its three toed foot, the bullet impacted right at the joint, between clawed appendage and ankle, the resulting loss of limb control dropping the alien gracelessly to the floor as it barked in pain. He quickly silenced it with a second shot into its now unguarded cranium, a puff of redish purple mist venting out the back of its angular skull.

 

Beside him, Katt gunned down a squealing grunt, the hump backed creature detonating as its methane tank ignited, reducing the poor fodder into scraps of scorched flesh and metal.

At their arrival, the scattered marines rallied and retaliated with new gained ferocity, fighting tooth and nail to regain control of the ransacked courtyard.

 

A concise tilt of his helmet and Katt went left, intending to press the Covenant flank and cover his solitary advance. 

 

The spartan-III's lone wolf tendencies had been cause for reprimand with Carter, but the results he achieved with his efforts in the short amount of time he was with Noble had already turned his leader's dismissal to reluctant acceptance. In an elite team trained extensively to function as a whole unit, he was a pariah. But none could doubt his efficiency. 

 

Six was a lone wolf, and a damned good one.

 

Once he heard the thunder of her rifle and that of the marines following her, he darted forwards, DMR kicking in his grip at each terse, calculated shot. Not a single round was wasted, grunt methane packs, jackal skull, each shot was lethal and accurate. 

 

He knew and anticipated that such an assault would soon catch the eye of the Covenant's main line warrior. 

 

And as another grunt fell to a cranial excavation with a 7.62x51mm, he heard the telltale warbling howl of his real foe. 

 

Six threw himself forwards, rolling across the ground to avoid the volley of concussive rounds that shelled his previous position, liquefying the asphalt. Regaining his feet in moments, Six turned to the sangheili, its gold gilded combat harness marking it as a major. Its mandibles flared in challenge, a growl of rage resonating in the conflict polluted air. The hulking saurian, like the rest of its race, was packed with inhuman muscle and power, strong enough to send even the toughest ODST flying with a single strike and shields only a volley of disciplined fire could bring down. 

 

There was a reason the sangheili were the leaders of the Covenant military.

 

Yet Six was undeterred to face against one of their finest warriors, in fact he smiled.

 

This was the one leading the unit, the one he had been looking for. 

 

Three hits to its chest from his high powered rifle sent it to a dive as well as it sought cover before its shields failed. The frag Six had been holding onto finally found its use as he pulled the pin and tossed it towards the forklift the alien had dropped behind. The resulting explosion briefly won-out over the general noise of combat and he watched as a golden figure stumbled blindly out of the inferno, armor blackened and cracked. Behind it, a great billowing cloud of smoke rose into the sky from the wreckage.

 

This was what he lived for. 

 

Six hurriedly slung the DMR onto his MJOLNIR's spinal magnetic strip, unsheathing a combat knife in its place as he stormed forward with silent rage. The impact of UNSC fabricated titanium clashing with durable alien alloy filled the air with a echoing thunderclap as  
an unstoppable force collided with an immovable object.

 

Dazed as it was and hit by half a ton of armored killing potential, the sangheili managed to keep itself upright and halt his rapid advance in an impressive feat of strength, delivering a doublefisted hammerblow onto his back with sufficient force to nearly knock the wind out of the spartan's chest, collapsing his shields. Nonetheless, however hard the sangheili warrior might fight, this was a battle of sheer will and savagery, a category where Six remained unrivaled.

 

To retaliate, the spartan-III rammed a gauntlet into its side, a dull echo of battered metal following his armored boot as he lashied out to simultaneously shatter its reverse kneecap with extreme force. The elite's armor held, but its flesh did not. With a sickening crunch and roar of pain the alien sagged as its leg gave out underneath it, still holding tight to the spartan as he augmented his attack with a pseudo-diamond edged blade thrust into its stomach, lethal edge piercing its unshielded form with ease. Lips pulled into a snarling rictus of unfettered hatred under his helmet, Six growled, ruthlessly stabbing the knife into his adversary, sawing at its internals and viciously tearing it out. At last the hulking alien collapsed, sliding off his shoulders with a weak moan as it sagged away. 

 

The spartan stepped aside, letting the corpse flop to the ground. Drawing his sidearm, he deposited a single round into its skull. Not out of mercy, but of spite. These aliens would kill every human on this planet, what else could they hope to expect.

 

The ensuing cries of outrage informed him that the other sangheili warriors in this group had witnessed the cruel and dishonorable execution of their leader and intended to pay him full in return.

 

Good, all was going to plan.

 

As the half dozen elites rushed to kill him, Katt and the marines, who had finished with the lower tier Covenant infantry, were free to gun down the aliens that had so foolishly charged out of cover. Six watched apathetically as they were gunned down with reliable human efficiency. There was no quarter given to the enemy, no pity felt as they were slain. Just as humanity had a penchant for stubbornness, so did they for malice. The only emotion felt by those present was hate. If they so could they would see this happen for the rest of their kin, a response justly demanded for every world lost, every life taken. This had once been a war for survival alone, now it would be of extinction, no matter the end. Only one faction would be left standing, and if Six had his way, he knew who would be left to lord over the ashes. 

 

The last elite dropping lifeless to the asphalt, Six rallied with Katt and the surviving marines, heading down the ramp leading to the gate and their next objective. Always pressing forwards, never backwards. The solace of peace only found in death.

 

This was the world he grew up in.

 

Kill or be killed. 

 

This was the only world he knew.

 

*****

 

Silence, complete and utter silence reigned in the mess hall as the brief snippet of video suddenly shut off. The action was accompanied by the spartan as he finished his meal, reequipped the device, and stood up to leave, all with delicate precision. Not a word passed from his lips as he moved on the mess hall doors, the only acknowledgment he handed out was a fleeting, apologetic tilt of his head towards Krystal. He knew she had wished to spend more time with him, yet a remembrance like that... 

 

He needed some time alone. His duties would help alleviate his unwanted recollections. Besides, he did not want to see their faces as they realized just what kind of creature they had accepted into their ranks, the looks she no doubt showed to his turned back. That... creature, was the man he had once been, A Six who might not have been so welcoming of his place here. The bitter hatred he carried had been all consuming, a fire that refused to die, fueled by the great bellows of his wrath. He had wanted worlds to burn in his retribution, and he would have taken as many souls with him as he could before the end. 

 

Yet Jorge had changed him, the older spartan-II smothering the flames of his hate with  
wisdom and patience. The hungarian had worked hard to get him to accept that there was another way to look at this life he lived. Why he had bothered wasting his time on a lost cause like him was a question Six wished he could have asked his fellow spartan. Sadly enough, Jorge had been perhaps the closest resemblance to a father figure Six ever had. At least he suspected so since he didn't really know what a father was. But he liked to envision it was someone like Jorge, kind, strong, and above all, patient. 

 

Outside the hall, he turned left down the passageway, a goal already in mind to burden his thoughts with. His MJOLNIR needed a checkup after that last mission and he had been putting it off until the data had been cracked. 

 

But now that they had a goal and a destination, he had that much time to prepare for whatever might be needed of him. It brought comfort to him, the knowledge that some things didn't change. He was a spartan, a warrior. As long as he did not lose sight of that, he would have something to cling to, however desperate his grip might be.

 

As long as he held onto his past, he could keep her safe. That was the one true thing he could be grateful for in regards to his old life.

 

It had made him strong. Strong enough he hoped, to protect the one he held cloe.

 

That was his greatest desire, a duty he regarded above all others. He would sacrifice everything, his life, his future, his soul, whatever it took he would forfeit to see that she remained happy and alive.

 

However his life ended here, he would ensure that she still breathed afterwards. 

 

*****

 

Krystal snapped on Falco, fangs bared as she snarled at him. Never before had she felt like sinking her teeth into the bird as much as she did at that moment. "Happy now? Was that enough to sate your curiosity?" She demanded, her tone ferocious and spiteful as she shouted at him. Though her thoughts ran wild on what she had just seen, those were not as much her concern at the moment as what doing that had done to her spartan. 

 

He may not have shown any visible sign, but she had not needed to see what she felt. Dredging up the past had caused Six pain, a deep ache unlike she had ever felt before. For that she was not in a very forgiving mood. She cared not how harmless the question might have seemed, Falco should have known better that things he supposed to be harmless were not so to others. 

 

Arrayed against such heavy animosity, Falco could only duck into his seat, having never seen Krystal so enraged. His usual antics had never triggered such an emotional response from her before, so he wondered briefly why this had been the tipping point. It did not help that he too was trying to process what he had witnessed, a video as utterly alien as the war it depicted, brutality on a scale unlike any battle he had ever fought. 

 

So much open hatred that would not be bothered to hide, death so callous and unadorned as if it was simply the way of life. It was an existence where fight or die was not just a euphemism, but fact. There was no middle ground, nor common ground. In order to fight monsters, they had become monsters.

 

Which is what Krystal looked like at that moment as she glared daggers at him, viridian eyes ablaze with unchecked ire, claws unsheathed and twitching with deadly intent. Falco knew that one wrong word and he might be signing himself up for a one way trip to the infirmary. And he had no desire to see just how sharp she kept those obsidian blades. 

 

He glanced over to Fox for help, the vulpine studiously observing the far wall. He wouldn't be of much use, having no inclination to end up on her bad side either, especially with such a fevered display. Miyu did not look all that happy with him either and Fay... well she was already halfway to the door, the canine moving with impressive stealth as she made a beeline for the exit. 

 

Looks like he was on his own for this one.

 

Yet as he returned his gaze to the visibly seething vixen, he doubted his chances of coming away intact. 

 

"I'm sorry Krys, it was just a harmless question. I didn't know he would get up in arms about it." The avian raised his feathered arms defensively,  
preparing for the possibility of the vixen's furious assault. 

 

His words seemed to only enflame her anger and the vixen reeled her arm back to strike him and the bird recoiled in his seat, Fox shifting to the side... when she suddenly stopped, her wrathful expression softening as claws were reluctantly sheathed. 

 

And in a move that made Falco even more uncomfortable then if she had hit him, she suddenly burst into tears and leaned across the table to envelop him in a bone crushing hug. Eyes bulging with disbelief and the force of her embrace, the bird looked to Fox, who only shrugged in uncomprehending confusion, the vulpine having no idea what occurred to inspire this startling metamorphosis.

 

"I'm Sorry Falco, I shouldn't have snapped on you like that." The vixen apologized tearfully, patting his back in consolation.

 

The bewildered bird was slow to response. "Uh... yeah sure.... It's alright. No harm no foul." He returned the back patting awkwardly. 

 

What the fuck? Falco mouthed to Fox over her shoulder, the vulpine once more shrugging unhelpfully. 

 

I don't know. He mouthed back. 

 

The women who had just readied to tear his throat out was now crying on his shoulder, making Falco a very confused and embarrassed bird indeed. He didn't do well with emotional stuff and had no idea how to handle this. So he just kept patting her back until she finally let him go. 

 

And with one last tearful apology she jumped away from her seat dashed out of the room in a great gust of wind.

 

And as the trio sat there in awkward silence, Miyu voiced their thoughts quite eloquently.

 

"Well that was fucking weird." 

 

*****

 

Fay exhaled in relief as she escaped that confrontation between Krystal and Falco, the young canine quickly making a path down the hall. Such situations were hard for her to deal with as she suffered from severe social anxiety, a problem that had developed in high school and Miyu had tried to fix to little success. 

 

She just couldn't cope when things got serious, she always ran before she could get too involved. The girl could blame this on her mother, who hadn't really been a good one. After her dad left, Miss Fera Spaniel had not handled his departure with grace and with such social ineptitude it was needless to say her teenage years had not been the best days of her life as promised.

 

She owed Miyu a lot for getting her through it, one of the reasons she had followed the lynx through their days in the CDF and later on, Starfox. It was hard for her to consider going without her. Sure, Miyu was boisterous, loud, and unruly, but that was belied her inner self, who was a surprisingly caring person. Unfortunately, this only ever really came out when the cat was stone drunk, leading to more then a few uncomfortable moments as she dragged the inebriated feline back to the ship after a rather rowdy night on the town. 

 

Still, she wouldn't trade this life for anything, she was lucky to have a family of friends, even if they sometimes butted heads or threatened to gut each other. Fay had learned long ago that friendship and family both came with quite a few quirks. 

 

And Six was the biggest one of them all. 

 

She wasn't sure how to act when the hulking warrior was around. He was just so intense all the time. Everything was a serious matter with him. Hell, he had treated Digcraft like some sort of combat simulator. And that was a building game! 

 

She had thought that he was his most intimidating when in that colossal suit of cerulean plate, but that impassive silver visor was nothing compared to his eyes. There was no escaping that piercing crimson gaze, the burning gravitas in that unrelenting stare. It was as if he could break down your very being and see just who you were with a passing glimpse. You could hide nothing from eyes like that. 

 

Which was why she was filled with guilt. No doubt he was aware of her feelings on him, how she was frightened to merely stand in the same room as him. Yet he had done nothing to vindicate her concerns about him, in fact he had proven himself time and time again that he was nothing like she feared. Yet when faced with those eyes, such sentiments persisted. 

 

At least that had been until she saw that video, which had only confirmed what she previously thought about him. He was everything she thought he was, everything that had screamed danger back then had only found evidence to support her. 

 

But despite this, Fay felt her opinion changing. He was not nearly as scary as she thought he was, not after seeing how broken he truly was. Now, she only pitied him. No one should have to live through what he did, to confront such monsters he had turned into a monster himself. 

 

And after what she heard, what she saw, could she really fault him for that? 

 

Could anyone?

 

Fay didn't think so.

 

Nothing's ever simple anymore is it? She sighed, tugging on her pink bow as the door in front of her hissed open. Well, at least she could find some peace and quiet in the workshop. Slippy had approached her the other day asking for help, something about power transfer for some project of his. She couldn't really keep up with all the toad's activities anyways. For a little guy he sure had a lot going on. Which reminded her. She'd have to ask him again how Amanda was doing. Slippy rarely if ever talked about her and Fay was always curious about these things. 

 

But for the moment she figured she'd just pop in and take a quick peek at his work before consulting with him. By then everyone should have calmed down, maybe she could even get a chance to hear it all from Miyu next time she saw her.

 

Spotting the worktable Slip had told her about, the canine quickly went to get a look. Whatever it was, the toad had thrown a tarp over it. Was he trying to hide something? And if so, why? Whatever, wasn't any of her business. 

 

With a shrug, the canine grabbed the lip of the canvas and moved to flick it aside when an unexpected voice interrupted her.

 

"Fay?" 

 

Startled, the snowy dog jumped in place and glanced over her shoulder, patting down her ruffled fur. 

 

"Six?" She replied, just as surprised. 

 

She had failed to notice the spartan on her first inspection of the room, an easy mistake as he was in the far back, partially concealed behind the stand supporting his armor. She could only assume that he had come down here with similar aims, apparent by the strangely designed tool clasped in his sizeable furless hand. 

 

"You gave me a start there." The canine confessed with a weak giggle, anxious paws teasing with the pink bowtie on top of her head. A very familiar sense of dread had resurfaced despite her best efforts to quash it. The sooner she accepted him the better. 

 

In response the spartan merely shrugged, lips faintly pursed in an unknown emotion. Six returned to his work, dismissing the canine with his usual apathy as he  
fiddled with an open section of his suit's spinal plating. 

 

Grateful that he had ended any semblance of conversation, Fay returned her focus to the oilcloth on the worktable, pulling it aside to reveal an odd device. She could not place what it was from the construction, but her experienced eye could tell that it was intended to be a weapon of some kind, but to what end?

 

Curious, she picked up the large cylindrical tube, noticing that it felt just too large for her paw. She studied it for some time, trying to decide what its purpose was, yet she had no luck. It was an enigma, too unfamiliar for her to understand what the toad was trying to make. Setting the strange creation on the table, she instead leafed through the sheef of notes that had resided beside it. 

 

But that in itself proved to be a challenge as well since it was written in Slippy's near indecipherable scrawl. A few minutes were needed to decipher his handwriting, the amphibian suffering from the same problem as most doctors. 

 

As she scanned the first page of scribbles, her eyes found themselves unconsciously wandering back to the other occupant of the room, studying the spartan as he toiled away with his single minded dedication. Admittedly, she was interested in getting an examination of his armor, the researcher inside her wondering what discoveries she might find within that scientific marvel. Yet the awkward teenage girl from high school still lingered, so even the thought of asking him to look at it filled her with anxiety. 

 

For now she would admire it from a distance. 

 

In her unfocused observation, the canine noticed that her subtle glanced were in fact not so much, the spartan's blood red irises returning her analytical stare. The sight of his eyes on hers sent a jolt of shock through her body and she visibly bristled, fur standing on end at that dispassionate gaze. 

 

"S-Sorry." She mumbled a quick apology and redoubled her examination of Slippy's notes, intently studying each individual line of prose in an effort to steer her vision away from that unmatchable look. 

 

Yet all the same, her naturally sharp hearing picked up on the feather light shift of air as the spartan let out a careworn sigh, the sound allowing Fay to muster the courage necessary to tear away from the notes and look back at him.

 

With his own gaze back at his work, she was able to closely examine his expression, a tired, and from the looks of it, discouraged grimace tugging at his battle-damaged visage. And Fay realized that perhaps her fear of him was something that he had to be acutely aware of.

 

Seeing this brought fresh feelings of guilt. This was a member of her team, someone she should be able to trust with her life. 

 

And she was afraid of him. 

 

"Am I really that scary?" 

 

Fay was taken back when the spartan spoke, the human seemingly wholly focused on his project as he delved into a topic he had been musing on for many weeks. He was genuinely interested in what her response might be in that time. But it had taken the events in the mess hall to catalyze his curiosity.

 

"Am I such a contemptible thing? A monster whose presence you cannot abide?" He truly wished to know for it was her opinion on him he would set as his basis of understanding in the times to come, what he could expect to receive from those he had yet to meet. 

 

Fay was uncertain how to respond. It could not be expressed enough that she was no good in these kinds of conversations, yet she could not just walk away. 

 

Meanwhile the spartan carried on with his developing monologue, eyes still centered on his MJOLNIR. It was easier to look at something so routine as he did something utterly opposite of that. Yet he felt as if this needed to be said, if for no other reason then to get it off his chest.

 

"If you feel this way I understand. You are not the first and you shall not be the last. However, just know. I did not ask to become what I am, did not understand what was asked of me, what I condemned myself to by making the choice that I had. Nevertheless, I promise you this, I will do all in my power to protect Starfox. I would never do anything to endanger this team, would willingly give my life in defense of this unit. You have my word."

 

There, his piece had been said, and the spartan was surprised to feel better after doing so. He was unused to unburdening his thoughts on others, found it incredibly strange and uncomfortable, an experience he had never before pondered. Spartans did not lament their existence, they accepted it for what it was, the only option afforded to them. Yet, this need to vent was a habitat he had unwittingly picked up from Krystal, deciding to try it for himself to see how it worked. 

 

Judging from how he felt after saying what he felt needed to be said, it just might not be as foolish as he had once considered. At the moment he was willing to try anything to relieve this pressure he felt. Whatever changes it would take to become the closest embodiment of Krystal's needs, he would undergo. 

 

Which reminded him, he would have to speak with her to apologize for his abrupt departure. As that was more important to him then his armor, Six closed up his suit, intending to talk with the vixen. 

 

But in an action that surprised Six, Fay suddenly bursting into movement as he reached the doors. The canine came up from behind him and gave the spartan what was perhaps the most uncomfortable hug she had ever given and he had  
ever received. 

 

"You're not a monster, Six." She told him, furred arms wrapped under his furless ones and around his broad chest as she spoke. "You are a good person. If anyone is a monster. I am for not seeing that." 

 

Frozen in place, Six was uncertain how to response, having not expected such an action from the long to be considered fearful canine. Eventually, he did find the correct response.

 

"Thank you." He did not know why, but those words had an unexpectedly reassuring effect on his mood. One could almost call it... good. 

 

Fay released him and smiled, watching as the spartan gave her a curt bow before ducking out of the workshop. The young canine had never been so glad to be wrong in her entire life. What he had said was more then enough to prove that her first instinct was not always the right one. 

 

Later, she would talk with Six more. She had a lot of friendly conversation to catch up on. But for now, it was time to see just what the heck Slip was working on down here. 

 

*****

 

This was not good, not good at all.

 

Krystal paced back and forth inside her room, the vixen muttering to herself as she tracked a path from wall to wall. 

 

By rights she should still have a few months to go before this happened. So why now? Why did her body betray her like this? Questions she desperately wished she had the answer for.

 

The timing itself could not be worse. She was not ready, neither of them were ready for it. She had wanted to broach this in due time, not to be rushed like she now was. 

 

Maybe I can hide it? She paused, considered the option, and then rejected it as she resumed her pacing. Krystal was wholly uncertain whether it would work. She doubted she could compose herself until it passed, not with him so close. For once, the fact they shared a room together was an issue. 

 

Do I even want to? Perhaps she shouldn't,  
maybe her body just knew what her heart wanted, to connect with Six on a deeper, more personal level. 

 

But is he ready? Am I ready? She didn't know if she could take that step, and if she was not, then he most assuredly was not either. Yet, the thought of trying did fill her with an unusual anticipation. Admittedly, she had thought about it often in the past few days and was definitely not opposed to trying. 

 

There wasn't anyone else she wanted, nor would that ever change. Six was her one and only, and she couldn't be happier. 

 

So why did such thoughts make her so nervous?

 

Krystal knew he would do anything for her, perhaps even something this intimate. The whole situation would not be that much of an issue if he was not so... restrained, withdrawn from his emotions. Did he even feel passions and desires in the way like she did?

 

He had shown no signs to point towards this. But she hoped he did, perchance more selfishly for her sake then his. 

 

As deep in her musing as she was, she still heard the low echo of footsteps  
approaching outside, her ears swiveling to follow them as they neared the door. Stopping herself in the center of the room, she watched as her spartan entered, greeting him with a welcoming, slightly anxious smile, something reflected in his own expression.

 

The human advanced on her, the man never one for straying from the point, one of the things she loved about him. "I am sorry for leaving." An apology filled with that innocent, childlike sincerity that had swayed her previous opinions on him and so easily took her heart.

 

"It's okay Six, I know that was not easy for you. I'm sorry that Falco can be so insensitive at times." She crossed the short gap between them, embracing the towering spartan. And the vixen lost her gaze in his bright crimson eyes, eyes filled with uncertainty and pain, the latter for her. 

 

She smiled.

 

Of course he was worried more for her then himself.

 

"You didn't have to do that." She told him.

 

"I did." His reply was gentle, yet firm. "That is who I was, who I used to be." He leaned in closer, resting his forehead against hers, pale skin brushing against cerulean fur. 

 

"That was before I met you." Six whispered softly, drawing a hand across her cheek as the vixen leaned into his caress. She was the most important thing in his life. She was his life. He had already changed so much of himself for her, and he would continue to do so until he was whatever she wanted him to be. 

 

Jorge may have told him there was another path to take.

 

But Krystal had shown him the way out. 

 

*****

 

The vixen smiled.

 

Whatever he had been before he met her was not the man he was now. The man in front of her was no monster, he had simply been lost before she found him. And now that she had him.

 

She would never let him go.

 

No matter what came from this, she would stand at his side. 

 

Perhaps they were not ready yet for what came next, but they would be in time, whether such an event occurred sooner or later mattered not. She was patient.

 

Krystal could wait.


	26. Before the Storm

Chapter 25: Before the Storm

 

The shuttle's interior was silent but for the faint rumble of the spacecraft's engines. Occasionally, an intermittent exchange of words broke the false quiet as the team chatted lowly amongst themselves. 

Six glanced down the compartment, splitting his attention between his rifle and the hold's other occupants, studying the team's arrangement inside the cramped vehicle. The shuttle was not voluminous, nothing like the comparably roomy troop bay of a pelican, which meant that despite the team's relatively diminutive size, the inside of the transport remained crowded. Which he realized, might be due in some part to his height and armor. Humans had not been factored into Cornerian design, especially not a Spartan. He took up quite a lot of space. 

Beside him was Krystal, next to the vixen sat Miyu, the girls chatting quietly with each other. Both women had insisted on remaining under his command during the brief for this mission, and surprisingly, or perhaps not so much, Fox had accepted their request without hesitation. Six was not sure what to make of that, whether to be glad or infuriated by this. On one hand, it seemed to show that in spite of his distaste with leadership positions, his officer training had not gone to waste. On the other, they would continue to be his direct responsibility, a prospect he was not so fond of. 

Six looked to the one that had dropped this role in his lap, Fox seemingly catching a few winks as he slumped in his seat, the strapped harness secured to his chest the only thing propping up the dozing vulpine, that and Falco as well. 

The avian did not look particularly satisfied with his current lot in life as he did his best to suffer in silence, ignoring the muzzle propped on his shoulder as it sawed logs directly into his ear, much to his discomfort. 

Though Six did not consider himself and Falco on good terms at the moment, not after that dinner incident a few days ago, he did sympathize with him, simultaneously thankful for his own position in the packed compartment. His riding companions were much more agreeable on this side of the ship, and far less noisy. 

Krystal made a far better partner to sit beside. 

Six shifted his focus away from his rifle, instead transferring it to the female fox pressed solidly against him, there being little room to be anything otherwise in the stuffy hold. The vixen's soft emerald gaze traversed the shuttle's interior, indolently perusing the cramped confines, tail twitching impatiently from its position in her lap. 

They had been stuffed in this cramped transport for the last half hour as it made its listless way down to the frozen surface of Fichina. Coordinates had been given to them by the planet's solitary Garrison, marking a zone on the grid where a recent anomaly had been detected. If luck was with them, that would be where they found their target. But getting there resulted in a long flight, inside a not so spacious place. 

The Spartan did not know why he had never noticed before how crowded the shuttle was, but alleged such idle musings were beyond his scope of concern at that time, back when he cared little for anything but war. Now... his mind wandered, dwelling on thoughts and sentiments he had never bothered to contemplate, one of which being the mysterious change in his close companion. 

Krystal had been acting most peculiar in recent days, more expressive with her emotions, clingy being a most suitable adjective. Just this morning she had insisted, quite adamantly, that they spend an extra hour for rest, something he had deemed a waste of time. This was for him, sixty very uncomfortable minutes as she coiled herself tightly around him, like some sort of furred, sapphire python. 

He was unused to this.... cuddling? Was that what she called it? The name of such a bizarre activity had been deemed unimportant at that moment. Whatever it was, she seemed to have enjoyed it thoroughly if the purring that had resonated from within her was any indication. And while she may have liked it, he remained entirely uncertain. Six had acclimatized to sleeping in the same bed as another, adapted to necessary circumstance with some difficult. But this was something... different, less... impersonal. He was not sure just how to describe it just yet, 

A part of him had been repelled by the pointless, prolonged physical contact. Before arriving here, he had spent more than fifteen years without any tangible displays of affection, so long that he did not understand by what means to properly recognize or respond to such unusual occurrences. 

However, a minute, undeveloped part of him had reacted... differently. 

The Spartan had been unable to diagnose the rogue sensation, and since then he still had yet to identify it. Yet he recalled easily how strange it had felt. His tactile senses had heightened considerably, allowing him to perceive each individual tress of fur that tickled his flesh, aware of each quiet exhalation departing from the vixen's slender muzzle to brush against his face. He had felt her chest constrict and expanded against his back with each new breath she took, itching the hairs on his neck. 

It had been a very... unconventional experience to put it mildly. 

And yet perhaps, he considered with some mystification, not all that unpleasant. 

He had felt... something. Six did not know for certain what it had been, and no manner of postulation thus far had revealed to him anything significant. But he would find the truth of this mystery. He just needed more time before he could crack this sentimental cypher. 

Six considered the notion that he was focusing too much on these thoughts and not the impending mission, deciding to introspectively review the information from the briefing before deployment. Which was, (he checked the chronometer on his HUD), five minutes till execution. 

This Katt Monroe individual, who was apparently an old associate of Starfox, had withdrawn into hiding after appropriating an article of great importance from Remnant forces. An item that's significance was known to only a select few, himself, Fox, Peppy, General Pepper, and a secretive elect within the Cornerian government. And while Six had run more than his fair share of covert operations, something about this one carried a peculiar weight with it, an uneasy omen. The same gut instinct that had tugged at him the moment he climbed out of the warthog on Reach, the premonition that this was the start of something much larger. He only hoped that if he was indeed correct, that bigger events were forthcoming, they would not portend the same conclusion. But for now he would carry on as usual, cautious and watchful. 

It was Fox's imperative to bring Monroe back alive. However, Six's mandate was less... altruistic. He would retrieve the asset at any cost that did not endanger the immediate crew. The woman was a non-essential, a secondary objective. And while Six had never failed to accomplish any task set out for him, be it primary, secondary, or tertiary, if the choice came between this girl and the success of the mission, he would do what Fox could not. Forgiveness could be asked for later. 

He looked back to his commander as the interior compartment of the transport shuddered, a sign that they had finally hit the surface, the brief surge of commotion awakening the slumbering vulpine ahead of him with a start. 

Fox took a few moments to collect himself, reaching into the overhead compartment above his seat and fumbling for a helmet. The extreme glacial climate of Fichina required the use of fully encompassing protective suits when outdoors, like MJOLNIR, but displaying none of the advanced qualities that made the battlesuit so unique, cumbersome and unwieldy where his armor bolstered and enhanced. This crude survival gear was little more than an insulated space suit with some padding, a thin covering of steel plating for protection from the elements, and a rudimentary HUD to link a group together and provide basic mapping and telemtry software on the surrounding environment. 

Before the mission he had made certain to inspect each suit himself, to see just how useful they were, and to ensure there would be no problems in part to faulty equipment. He would have preferred that the team be better equipped for groundside operations, and planned to fix such shortcomings when he had the time and inclination to do so. Usually, he did not care to bother with such things, but for Starfox, he was willing to go that extra mile. 

While Fox struggled to settle the tight fitting helmet over his head, the rest of the team quickly followed suit, Six merely running an abridged diagnostic on his own systems while they prepped. Krystal glanced to him just before she slipped her helmet on, soft, uneasy smile disappearing momentarily under the opaque visor before it unpolarized. 

Despite his current ponderous disposition, Six felt his mouth twist into a slight grin, the action wasted on his impenetrable mask. No matter how dark the days seemed or how deep he mulled in his own dour thoughts, he always had a smile ready for her, the simple sight of her cheerful muzzle all that was needed to bring such a response from him. As days passed, he realized her true importance to him. Not just as someone that cared for a man as difficult and troubled as himself, but one of the few people he truly believed in. 

His life under ONI's leash had turned him into a cynical, world-weary individual. He had not cared for anything but his grim work, years of his life wasted hunting in the dark, stalking within shadows. It was a past he still needed to reconcile with, that's demons had yet to be silenced. Those days had dulled his faith in the decency of people, led him to believe that true innocence and moral righteousness no longer existed anywhere in the universe. But now that he was proven wrong, it was his goal in life to preserve what he had once thought lost, and protect those who carried the virtues he concluded were worth saving. 

Starfox carried those virtues. Though alien in nature, this team was the embodiment of integrity and valor. Despite their calling as mercenaries, they did not let such an occupation interfere with their code of ethics. They fought for what was right, not just for a paycheck. 

Krystal, Fox, Miyu, and the others, they were true heroes, something he was not. They had saved their people. Six had failed his. No one had ever called him a hero. Nor would he have wished for such an undeserved accolade. He did not believe he deserved to be called such a thing. At the time he had done what was necessary to ensure humanity's continued survival. Six would not dispute that it was not always ethically sound, but such deeds had placed the needs of the many over the few. 

He may have not been a hero, or even proud of previous acts committed, but even now he would not change the path his life had taken, the things he had done, not after the series of tumultuous events led him here. No matter the past or the future, Six knew, with whole-hearted conviction, that this is where he was meant to be. 

Perhaps luck was more than a myth, fate and destiny more than mere words used to describe events unexplainable or unexpected. It may have been fate that sent him here, but it was luck that delivered Krystal unto him. 

Six leaned forwards as the loading ramp hissed open, briefly tapping the tip of his helm against hers, an unspoken and perhaps irregular show of appreciation led on by his grateful musing. In reply she brushed a paw against his shoulderplate, a loving acknowledgement of his action. 

Sense of gratitude delivered, Six pulled away, resting the large firearm firmly in his gauntlets as the team disembarked, slowly plodding down the metal ramp to the snowy ground underneath. The Spartan scanned the immediate vicinity, nothing but kilometer upon kilometer of barren arctic tundra stretching endlessly before them, mounds and hills of white powder, a desert of ice as far as the eye could see. 

Small drifts of low blowing snow whipped about in a flurry around their feet, the howling and turbulent winds muted by their muffling suits. The sight of such mercurial activity met by a deadening wall of silence brought an eerie atmosphere to the barren wastes of ice. It almost made Six wish for the jungle once more, at least there, there was life. Here, there was nothing, like some frigid, achromatic purgatory, a complete absence of vibrancy or sense of being. 

This was the place Monroe chose to make her disappearance? Six could not tell if that made her brave or foolish. And he would be surprised if they found her alive, more likely to find a frozen corpse then anything. 

While the Spartan scanned the frozen expanse, Fox stretched for relief after finally escaping their cramped situation, turning away from the landscape to face the assembled group. His static inflected voice carried over the comms system, clearly heard in the still quiet of their helmets. 

"Alright guys, it's time to get to work. This is the sector where the Garrison's radar operator picked up on a stray signal. Katt is probably hiding out here somewhere. That leaves us with several kilometers of hostile, open ground to cover. And with this inclement weather jamming up any and all systems, we won't have the shuttle's or the Great Fox's sensors for support." 

"Well, that's just bloody well fantastic." Falco grumbled, irritably kicking his boots and sending small geysers of snow flickering into the air to be hastily blown away by the stiff breeze. "I goddamn hate the cold." 

Since learning who they were searching for, the avian had become increasingly aggravated, more so than usual, something Six did not understand. From what Fox had told him, this Monroe woman was a close friend of his, the Spartan would think someone would be glad to find their friend. If anything, the bird appeared reluctant. 

Were they not as close as Fox indicated? 

"If that's true, then I think you'd like to get this done faster." Fox replied evenly, the vulpine well accustomed to Falco's snark by now. "Seeing as we have quite a distance to canvas, we'll split into teams of two, cover more ground that way." He turned to the Spartan and the vixen standing beside him. "Six, Krystal, you'll work your way to the center of this zone. Fay, Miyu, you two will circumnavigate the outer perimeter and head inwards. Falco and I will check the gaps." Fox then spoke to the team member still inside the shuttle. "Slip, stay in the cockpit and keep the engines warm." 

"Roger!" The toad's youthful voice answered. 

"When and if anyone finds anything, notify Slippy and he'll come around to pick you up." The vulpine clapped his paws together. "Right then, if that settles it, let's get to work. The faster we finish this the better. The planetary weather report says a massive cold front is moving into this hemisphere. Pretty soon it'll be too cold for the shuttle's de-icer. And if we're not gone by then we'll be stuck down here till it all blows over." 

Miyu chuckled in disbelief. "A cold front? Then what the hell is this?" She gestured around them. 

"Summer." Fox answered, dead serious. 

"Oh." 

"Then we should probably get moving. I don't want to get trapped down here." Fay ushered them on quickly. 

"Let's get to it." The vulpine agreed wholeheartedly, turning to the team one last time. "Good luck guys, and stay in radio contact. I want a report every half hour. Otherwise we'll have to rescue you first. And I don't think Katt will appreciate that." 

Six stood patiently as the team slowly broke apart and dispersed with a few laughs, watching as a grumbling Falco followed after Fox, Miyu and Fay, talking animatedly amongst themselves, both groups soon fading from sight in the developing blizzard, not before the parting feline gave him a rather... enthusiastic wave goodbye. 

He was somewhat concerned about the severity of the local elements. The atmospheric readings gleaned from the tech in his suit indicated temperatures nearly a hundred degrees below freezing, the counter steadily ticking even lower as the storm brewed around them. If suit integrity was to be lost for any of them, it would be nearly as bad as exposure to hard vacuum. 

"Ready to get going?" 

He faced Krystal, the vixen looking to him questioningly, and offered her a concise nod in reply, following after her flapping tail as she lead the way deeper into the snowscape. Six had some experience with search and rescue operations, most of it unpleasant. More often than not, they had been corpse hunting. He would be pleasantly surprised to find a change of pace this time around. 

 

*****

 

Fox waited till they were out of sight and several minutes into their travels before he spoke his mind. "So," he turned to Falco. "What's eating you? I thought for sure you of out of everyone would be eager to find her." He knew of their history together. Falco and Katt had been members of a gang long before the bird ever met him. 

He also knew that she had a thing for Falco, a sentiment the avian did not appear to return, or at the very least could not express back to her. More often than not Falco's stubbornness did no favors for him and Fox wondered when he would finally realize that. 

As expected, the bird scoffed and shrugged in answer as he trudged forwards through the heavy snowfall. "I'm not responsible for bailing her out of trouble, Fox. Katt needs to learn how to fend for herself." 

"And you're not worried about her at all?" Fox demanded, eyeing his friend carefully. "This isn't like the other times. She's not messing with some small time criminals. The Remnant might not be all that much of a threat to us, especially with Six. But for a girl all on her own, they can be deadly." 

Falco seemed to deflate slightly, a slight slump to his shoulders. "I know that." He muttered dejectedly. 

"Then why the lack of interest? If you knew that you wouldn't be muddling along. To me, it looks like you don't want to look for her." 

"Well maybe I don't!" Falco snapped, fires stoked once more. "It's not my job to protect her!" 

"No, it's not a job." Fox agreed, distaste clearly heard in his tone. "But it doesn't need to be. She's our friend, Falco. We help her not for the money, but because it's the right thing to do." At the moment, the vulpine was more opposed to his present company then the weather. "Why can't you see that?" 

"I see it. I'm just tired of doing it." With those final words Falco was no longer in the mood to continue the conversation, the avian studiously ignoring his walking companion. 

Fox sighed, wondering how the others were fairing on the start of their adventures. 

Maybe he should have paired up with Six, instead. He might have, if not for the fact Krystal would have his head on a platter for it and might just decide she was finally sick of Falco's attitude. She had nearly turned the bird into mincemeat back at dinner the other day. Only her drastic shift in attitude had spared him from disembowelment. 

It made the vulpine wonder what had come over her to create such a wild mood swing. He had a few ideas as to what might be the cause.

And if he was right about any of them... 

Well, Six just might be facing either a very interesting point in his life, or something very traumatic, all depending on how he would respond to the situation. Perhaps he should talk with the human soon, that or find out from Krystal herself. Though the last option sounded like a very uncomfortable conversation. Hell it would be tough to judge which would win the prize for most awkward talk of the year. 

Ugh, at least his father didn't have to deal with this. And if he had, James McCloud would have known exactly what to do. Once more Fox wished he could have turned to his father for advice. 

Even with Andross dead, he still hated the ape bastard's guts. As many times as he had killed the simian dictator, he never got the satisfaction he craved. Fox discovered that hate would not bring his father back, no matter how many times he defeated the Venomian despot, no matter how many enemy fighters he shot down. Hate, begat hate. It was never an answer, never would be. 

It was a lesson he hoped Falco would soon learn himself. The avian needed to curb his prideful nature. Otherwise he just might find himself ending up just like Andross, twisted and driven mad under the weight of his own arrogance. 

Falco's voice cut into his musing. 

"Hey, what's that?" 

 

 

*****

 

They spent hours wandering the arctic desert, passing countless dunes of frost that over time began to look more and more the same. But Krystal in truth did not mind it. She was just glad to have finally found the alone time with Six that she wanted. Sure, they did not talk much as they traveled, simply keeping pace with one another as they marched onwards. Yet that did not bother her either. The Spartan had always been one of few words, more a listener than a speaker. And she recalled a particular phrase her father had always been fond of using. 

It takes a truly exceptional individual to be a good listener, or at least that was the unpolished version of the phrase. It had been some years since she last heard the idiom spoken aloud. 

And in that regard, she thought Six to be more than exceptional. He did not talk often or for any extended length of time, usually armed with no more than a few words at any given moment when he did. But when he spoke, it was with a humble wisdom that one would be foolish not to heed. His deep and grating voice held a certain undeniable intensity that was nearly hypnotic to a certain degree. 

She could listen to him talk for hours, if only he had the inclination to. It was unfortunate that as a whole he seemed to dislike voicing his opinions or concerns. Just as there was no one who could hold that same influential weight, there was no one quite as private with their thoughts as Six. That much she was thoroughly confident of. 

Krystal glanced over her shoulder, the towering spartan's dark blue armor easily piercing the snowy veil that enshrouded the landscape, the soldier plowing effortlessly through the high embankments of frost with each determined footfall. 

She had been pleasantly surprised upon noticing the changes he had engendered upon his armor, indulging the more feral, possessive part of her. Though admittedly, seeing the symbols for her family's royal house perpetuated on the suit of stalwart alien plate had filled her with a variety of mixed emotions at first sight. While it was an unexpected delight to see another bearing the markings, it also sought to vividly remind her that she and Six were the only ones who would likely ever carry the sigils of Cerinian nobility. It incited within her a lust for the past, yet, unexpectedly, she found herself only wanting for it if he would be there with her. 

The spartan had become so important to her that even if she were to have a chance to go back, she wouldn't take it. Krystal could not leave him, and the thought of forgetting or never having met Six was too horrible to dwell on. This was her life now, a life she would happily add, that had brightened considerably after she met him. 

As she watched the human on her mind bulldozer his way forwards, a thought crossed her attention, one that interested her to no end. Back days before, when he had shown them that recording of his previous life, who had been the other giant that fought beside him against those horrible monsters? 

She was cognizant that he might not be in any way comfortable with dredging up the past, but the vixen felt that if anyone had a right to hear more about the history of the man underneath the armor, it was her. And perhaps she could help him deal with what he had endured. After what she saw, Krystal was more certain than ever he held enough skeletons in his closet to overpopulate a graveyard. 

"Hey... Six?" The vixen would have to be careful how she handled this. She wanted to learn more, but she didn't want to hurt him. If it was up to her, she would see that nothing ever hurt him again, a naïve wish she knew, but a wish she hoped for all the same. 

Momentarily taking his ever watchful gaze from their surroundings, the supersoldier focused in on her, a slight hint of curiosity in his endlessly guarded movements. Over the course of their time together, she had been starting to distinguish distinct variations in his ostensibly untellable poses while in armor, faint, nearly unnoticeable 'tells', as it were, of his current moods. It had taken some time and no small amount of effort and forethought to differentiate between the myriad of subtle indications he displayed, but after getting to know Six and spending the majority of her time around the spartan, she was confident she could interpret his slight gestures with some degree of accuracy. 

Right now she could understand that he had been caught wholly by surprise, and was slight inquisitive of where this might query might be heading, recognized by the minute tilt of his helm and negligible drop in his guarded stance, motions that would have been unnoticed by anyone but her. Krystal would have wondered why he so adamantly concealed his physical reactions had she not already heard him speak of what he had been through, seen some of that nightmarish reality for herself. 

So it came as no surprise that even speaking casually as they were, his weapon remained firmly shouldered and ready to fire at a split second's notice. She doubted he would have need of it here on such a remote world, but admired his dedication to their mutual safety nonetheless. 

"Yes?" 

"When you... showed us that video, who was that person, the one with the armor like yours?" 

She stared at him patiently, nervously waiting for his response and hoping that she had been right in assuming he trusted her enough. 

 

*****

 

Six's stride hardly faltered as she started her rather pointed inquiry, though he did give her a curious glance through his visor. He did not disparage the vixen for asking such a pointed question. She above any other deserved to know what his life had been like before this. He had already told her of his youth, the years he spent in the program. But during that conversation he had not been ready to talk of Reach, the events too recent and the woman unknown. This time however, he felt he could. Months had passed since Six's arrival and he knew Krystal better than anyone else he had ever met before. 

All his life he had learned not to trust anyone. 

But he trusted her, in spite of his policy of doubt. 

He felt that she had the right to hear of Noble, the team that had been responsible for helping him find this place, though they did so unknowingly. 

"That..." He began slowly as he pieced together the proper words to say. "...was Kat, a Spartan-III, like myself. She was a part of my team back on Reach. We were called Noble if you remember." He was certain she had already been made privy to some of this information. 

"Katt?" The vixen asked, the question needing no connotations to be understood. 

"Merely a coincidence I assure you. I have not met this Monroe women but I am certain they are nothing alike." Spartans were different from their fellow humans, but were substantially more unique when compared to aliens. He doubted any person in Lylat was like them, or him. 

The vixen did not respond immediately, instead taking a few extra moments to figure out her next inquiry as she picked her path through mounds of snow. She did not know how long he would be willing to answer her questions. So she had to prioritize the ones she wanted to know the most. 

Once landing on a decision, she opened her mouth. 

"What was she like?" 

"Kat?" Six paused, mulling over his words. 

How did one describe her? Initially she had disliked him and he held no ill will towards her for that. He had been there to replace someone they had lost, a fallen brother, one of their family. He had arrived on Reach already expecting a cold and indifferent, if not outright hostile welcome. Yet she had thawed quickly, not as effortlessly as Jorge but certainly faster than Emile. 

While they may have not been friends at the end, he knew she counted him among her comrades. And it had been a dark moment when she was lost. Her sudden and violent end still resonated inside him, a warning that even the strongest armor and advanced technology did not save you from a sniper's deadly aim or ill-gotten luck. 

"She was a strong woman, smart, courageous, and deadly in the field of battle, just like any other spartan. I also recall that she was particularly skilled in the field of electronics and taught me most of what I know in the short month we fought together." 

"How did she die?" Even as she voiced her question, she studied him closely, intending to glean any hint that she had probed too deep. But despite her previous knowledge on his responses, she could see no visible tell. He merely pressed onwards beside her, visor focused forward and gait unaffected. 

"Her end was met during the fall of Alexandria, one of the larger cities on Reach. Covenant forces had overwhelmed the defensive army and we were falling back to a civilian shelter before they glassed the city into molten ash." 

Despite the neutrality of his body, his voice betrayed him. She heard an indistinct fluctuation in his tone, a slight drop in pitch that was near inaudible, yet her large, pointed ears once more proved their usefulness. 

"We were within a skyscraper when the glassing started." 

The foreboding portents lacing his words brought her attention back to the conversation, the nonpartisan emptiness she heard enough to bring up concern. 

Had she asked too much of him? 

"It was a hectic and violent journey down the tower. We fought through a myriad of claustrophobic hallways, each packed with swarms of Covenant infantry. Emile and I were the designated frontrunners, blazing a path through the hardened enemy positions for the others and any civilians we found along the way of our withdrawal. Once we finally made it to the ground floor, we traveled even lower to the emergency service corridors where more of the enemy laid in wait. From there we soon found ourselves at the bunker, the upper levels had already been breached by that point and a deafening roar had shaken the very air. I saw through a hole in the building's ceiling above us after we found are way out there, a glowing haze tinting the horizon a dark red that lingered from the plasma bombardment. It was as if the sky itself was on fire." 

Now she could clearly hear something in his voice, but was too enthralled with his detailed monologue to identify the alteration. The vixen had been drawn in by his unwittingly charismatic speech, the meter between each syllable he uttered captivating in its sincerity. He may not have considered himself so and would be appalled that others did, but Six was a master storyteller. It did not take much for her to be drawn in. 

That had been before they met, on a different world, perhaps even a different galaxy. And while he was with them now, she could not forget where he came from, the stories he told her of a desperate stand against impossible odds, what was to him his daily existence. This was just the farthest she had ever pushed him, the man opening up to her to such an extent as she had never heard before. Krystal felt privileged that he would share this part of himself with her, that he cared enough about her to delve so deep into a time she knew he was not entirely proud of, that's events had not and may never leave him. 

And she was immensely proud of Six, that he was making the no doubt challenging effort to let go of his past and all its crushing burdens. She knew that not so long ago he would have never even debated on whether or not to open up to her. The vixen also took some measure of internal pride that she was able to help him achieve this. 

Now only if she could find the courage to reciprocate his confidence in her. They had much to discuss, and soon if her fluctuating emotions were any indication. 

Though she brooded in musings of her own design, Six continued on, oblivious to her absentminded considerations, the spartan's mind drifting absently into a past that was not so long ago. 

"Kat and I lagged behind, less than thirty feet from the others as we sprinted to the closing doors. But before we made it all the way across she was hit, sniper bolt to the back of the skull, cut right through her shields and armor.... She was dead before I caught her." 

The Spartan halted momentarily, footsteps receding until he stood unmoving in a snow drift. Yet the pause did not last long before he was moving once more, the man outwardly invigorated with fresh resolve. 

"That was the first time I saw a spartan die with my own eyes. And yet.... I had suspected it would not be the last. Nor did I have to wait long before I was proven right." 

He looked to her, curious to hear for himself what brought these questions along and hoping to find a better outlet for conversation then a time better left unvisited. "Why the sudden interest? You have not asked me of my past in some time." 

Krystal was quick to respond, having anticipated a counter query to this interrogation. 

"I simply wish to know more about you, or at least the you before we met. I noticed that you acted... different, in that recording." She did her best to word herself carefully. Bloodthirsty, is the adjective she would have used to describe him, ferocious and more brutal then she had witnessed from him before. It did not worry her overtly. She was fully aware of what Six was capable of and understood what had put him down such a violent road. She did not let that bother her. Krystal did not care about that. But she was curious to know what had curtailed that more vicious part of him. 

"Monstrous, is the word I believe you are looking for." Six offered with a low chuckle. He would be the first to admit that he had been more akin to an animal than a human, at least back then. The program had taught him to kill, with expediency and tactical efficiency... and where that was deemed impossible, with cunning and savagery. 

Since that point however, he had learned a little of decorum, picked up certain niceties from Jorge and later on Krystal. He had learned there was more to life then ending lives. 

They had taught him how to live his own. 

"No. Not at all." She was quick to dissuade him of the bleak thought, utterly unappreciative of the self-deprecation in his grim tone. Krystal hated to hear him speak of himself in such an insulting way when she knew he did not deserve such harsh self-loathing. "How about dashing? Chivalrous maybe?" The vixen mused jokingly as she glanced to him for approval, a whimsical grin tugging on her muzzle in a bid to cheer up his dour mood. 

That time, Six allowed himself a more genuine laugh, a low yet growling reverberation that rumbled pleasantly in the confines of her small helmet as he shook his head in grim amusement. 

"Truly? I personally think those descriptions to be farthest from the truth. I was quite a beast in my halcyon days. A monster indeed." While outwardly mirthful, there was a slight undercurrent of... remorse perhaps? In his voice. 

He had indeed been proficient at the proliferation of wanton slaughter. The spartan had more confirmed kills than most ODST battalions. Oni had trained their reaper well.

"No. Never. You will never be a monster in my eyes, Six. To me you will always be a hero." 

Her declaration gave him pause, thoughts of another more recent conversation left ringing in his head. 

"Hero..." Six lingered on the word with a frown she did not need see to know was there. "Never been called that before. Though I must admit when associated with myself it is quite an amusing conjecture. But all the same," he lowered his head respectfully. "I am honored you think so highly of me." 

The vixen giggled lightheartedly, shaking her muzzle in fallacious disappointment. "Six, you should already know. I think the world of you." 

"A world, is that all? The universe itself in all its infinite glory could not hold a candle to you." 

Krystal froze up, not quite sure she correctly heard what the spartan had just proclaimed. The vixen's brain took a few moments to compute his utterance. And as it dawned on her, a blush found itself warming up her cheeks, she fiddling with her tail as if she was some kit with a schoolyard crush, a sight that was undeniably out of place in the wintry blizzard raging endlessly around them. 

"You can't possibly mean that." She mumbled softly, the vixen having great difficulty with finding her voice to respond to such a solid declaration. He had never been so direct before with his intentions, nor had he voiced them so freely. For a brief moment, she had nearly forgotten where they were and what he was. But the world was not so kind as to let her have her thoughts for a moment longer and she remembered. 

Arctic world, friend in danger... 

Krystal told this to herself as she turned her eyes away from the snow underneath her boots and to the spartan walking at her side. 

"I never lie." Six replied with a simple shrug. He had merely iterated an undeniable fact. Krystal meant more to him then anywhere, anyone, or anything in this galaxy, or any other. He... valued her companionship, highly. It was a gift he cherished above everything else that has or will ever exist. He would go so far as to admit that she was the very thing that kept him pushing onwards, allowed him to live in this bizarre world and face such inconceivable adversities with such confidence and unwavering certainty. 

The foundation of his existence had once been centered on and driven by a set of acutely uncomplicated directives, fight, kill, survive. Onwards and forwards, an endless chain of spiraling oblivion, but ultimately an oblivion with purpose. 

Yet all of that had been upheaved the moment he arrived here, He had lost his sense of purpose. And for a time he had wandered directionless, without a true belief in his own personal worth. Fox had helped him carry on with that for a while, but it had been her to finally offer him what he desperately needed. 

A reason to exist. 

He had trained his whole life to serve and protect mankind, so long that he could do nothing else, had wanted for nothing else. And when that duty no longer became an option he had been unable to find his way, the meaning Six once guided himself with, left abandoned in the wake of unexpected circumstances. 

Then he had found Krystal, a new icon to pour his faith and devotion into. The vixen needed a protector, or rather what was perhaps more truthful, Six needed something to protect. Mayhaps that was what had drawn her to him initially, his subconscious seeing the ostensibly vulnerable woman as someone to fulfill his desire to defend... something, anything, as long as it gave reason to the suffering he had endured.

It was entirely possible that he was just an obsessed, broken man, battered and worn down by a lifetime of post-traumatic stress, merely chasing after the first person to treat him kindly, like a beaten hound. He imagined most Spartans were as equally damaged as he, a natural byproduct of their... rough, upbringing. Yet whatever it might be that drew him to her and kept him firmly by her side, he honestly did not care. 

The Spartan knew not where he would be without her, but most certainly he would be lost, in a figurative and literal sense both. She had changed his directives, his desires, protect, adapt, live. Not just to survive, but to fundamentally make it a life worth living. 

His death in battle may have been guaranteed, it was the end all Spartans were doomed to face. But perhaps, before that inevitable conclusion, he could find some enjoyment of this weary existence, leave something behind other than a field of corpses and rivers of blood. He could leave memories... a legacy, something to ensure he would not be forgotten once his days had ended. 

It was her that offered him this previously impossible prospect. And for that, he... could not live without her, could not thank her enough for this unique opportunity. 

Perhaps it was time he let Krystal know this, just how much she truly meant to him. Six was aware he was not the most emotionally receptive of individuals; such considerations were not so easily forthcoming for him, not after the life he lived. He could not mutually return the affection she showered upon him, and if he was capable of that degree of intimate expression it would most certainly not be in a satisfactory way as he was emotionally impaired in regards to matters of the heart.

Which was why could never understand why she insisted on staying beside him as she so tenaciously did, regardless of how fundamentally flawed as his past had made him. But nonetheless, he was grateful for her dogged persistence. 

As he tried to muster the words necessary to divulge just how important she was to him, Six felt a sudden wave of queasiness overwhelm him and glanced at his HUD's internal environmental monitoring software, questioning if perhaps his equipment was malfunctioning. It was stiflingly warm inside his armor, and he might have even been tempted to remove his helm if not for the deathly arctic conditions outside his MJOLNIR. Instead, he endured this discomfort in silence and focused on attempting to speak, battling his own body in a confrontation for control of his inexplicably dry mouth. 

Slowly but surely, he seized dominion over the muscles in his face, forcing them to accede to his demands. 

"Krystal..." He grunted softly, reacquiring her full attention at the sound of his subdued voice. In response, the vixen looked to him, bright emerald eyes studying his visor with keen interest. 

And under the gaze of those shining jade orbs, he floundered, losing every vestment of strength he had just won control over as the vixen waited patiently for him to speak. 

The spartan nearly went rigid before he used his iron will to crush these inexplicable sensations plaguing him. He was going to tell her, there was no other course of action to take. She deserved to know.

With his resolve reaffirmed, he opened his parched lips once more. 

"I..." 

"Hey Six, Krystal, can you hear me?" 

The sudden inclusion of Miyu's voice broke his intense concentration, allowing Six to release a quiet gasp of air as he let go of the breath he had not realized he was holding. Now slightly irritated at the interruption, he begrudgingly responded, vowing that he would tell Krystal later in the day. With a flick of an eye and twitch of the brow he activated his transceiver. 

"This is Six, how copy?" 

"Other than a little interference, I can hear you just fine." Despite some minor static distortions, her voice came in crisp and clear, meaning she could not be all that far away, no more then four kilometers if he were to guess. 

"What's the situation? Did you find Monroe?" Six hoped she had called with good news, because he was starting to grow bored with this monotone arctic waste. And judging from Krystal's dull expression, so was she. 

There was a slight pause before the cat gave her hesitant reply. "Well, not exactly..." 

He frowned. "Elaborate." 

"Good news or bad news first?" 

He glanced to Krystal. 

"Good," the vixen decided. 

"Good news first." 

"Well, we found her ship. But she's not there. From the looks of it she hasn't been back to it for a few days." 

"Was that the bad news?" Six inquired. 

"Nope, still good. The bad news is, that's not the only ship we found out here. Fox and Falco just told me they found an empty Remnant transport. And from its size, we could be looking at anywhere upwards of thirty to forty of the bastards. But hey, at least we know for sure we're on the right track!" She added, hoping to throw some levity into the dark development. 

Immediately, Six looked to his motion tracker, only seeing a green pip flickering where Krystal stood. "How long ago was this?" 

"I contacted you right after they did me. Fox tried to reach you but I guess this shitty weather is playing hell on our radios. You know, for once would it have killed the guy to pick a friendlier planet?" 

Seeing that they were, for the moment, free of adversaries, the spartan divided his attention between the comms uplink and the environment. The knowledge that they were not alone gave the lackluster snowscape an ominous tint. "Have the orders changed?" 

"Nah, keep on going on. But if you run into any of those asshats, feel free to show them our appreciation for dropping in where they're not wanted." 

"Affirmative." He cut the signal and re-shouldered his rifle, stowing away his previous musings in favor of the present. With a confirmed enemy presence on this world he would need to focus "Ready?" He asked, turning to his vixen companion. 

She nodded, and with the response deemed satisfactory, he once more led the way. 

 

*****

 

"So, not afraid of Six anymore are ya?" Miyu nudged her canine companion pointedly. Ending her call with the spartan had reminded her of a subject she had been hoping to bring up for a while in regards to her most recent observations. 

"No." Fay was quick to respond with her usual softness, the dog sounding somewhat on the defensive if the feline's ears rang true. 

Miyu rolled her eyes. Some habits were hard to break, Fay's social ineptitude proving to be an interesting and surprisingly strong challenge. Even after all these years she had yet to emerge fully out of her antisocial shell. But enough it seemed, to cast away her previous doubts on their resident supersoldier. 

"If I might pry, as you know I will. What brought on this change in perspective?" The feline wondered, splitting her attention between Fay and the uninteresting snowscape. Despite the knowledge that The Remnant had a physical presence on Fischina, she was not all that concerned by it. They had dealt with their kind on more than one occasion, and she was confident the pair of them could take care of themselves.

"We... talked, before the mission." The canine admitted quietly, Miyu struggling to hear her companion despite the radio's solid connection. 

"Yeah, about what?" 

Her reluctance to speak was quite obvious, yet Fay persevered in spite of the fact, going to show how far she had come from the timid girl Miyu first met. "He had confronted me about my... disinclination to interact with him. I answered honestly, and he responded in kind. We spoke further, and I learned that he is not such a bad person after all, if a little rigged and overwrought most of the time." 

"That's it?" Miyu inquired skeptically, and perhaps somewhat disappointed. She had been hoping to hear some dramatic tour de force, complete with a tearful heart-to-heart and complementary touching moment of understanding developing between the two. 

"That's it." Fay affirmed with a laidback nod, crushing Miyu's idealistic hopes. 

"Boring." The cat muttered, her next few steps enforced with a low grumbling that brought a faint giggle out of Fay's throat. 

Miyu supposed she should have known better than to suspect Six would do anything that could be considered usual or expected. In fact after giving it further thought she was surprised that he had been able to even speak with Fay on the matter at all. He had always been averse to expressing himself, especially to the point where he could have an earnest conversation with Fay to resolve their unspoken issues. 

With nothing else to do while they walked, Miyu decided to pester Fay further on the subject while it was still up in the air. 

"You know, I-" 

Without warning the stable bank of snow she had been at the moment crossing proved itself to be firmly in the opposite as she suddenly lost her footing. An undignified yowl was the only noise she made as she disappeared into the darkness below, Fay's worried shout chasing after her into oblivion. 

 

*****

 

Six studied the suited form of his vixen traveling companion, as she once more found herself at his side, wondering whether he should try and strike up a conversation down the vein of interest he had been building up the courage to pursue before his musing had been interrupted. If there was one thing Six understood above all else after years dragging through the filthy and coagulated mires of blood and battle, it was this.

Life is fleeting...

There was no telling how long he had left for this world, and what worried him considerably more, how long she had either. The spartan would do all in his power to keep her safe, but there were some threats he could not stop, however few and far stretched they might be. He was not so foolhardy as to believe he could stop random chance or ill-fortune from stealing her away from him. And if such a day were to come, Six was certain he would not find himself that far behind her.

Such was an uninviting notion to be sure, but it was the truth. He lived to serve her, wholly and completely. If he failed Krystal and she passed, he was duty bound to follow in her footsteps. If there was an afterlife, and he did not plummet to the underworld for the grievous crimes he committed in the name of human preservation, then she would have need of him. He did not know much about religion or understand anything more then what he had heard from soldiers in passing by, nor had he cared for such existential quandaries such as heaven or hell at the time. But he was almost confident that if he were to be judged for his actions by some omnipotent god atop a golden throne, that his path in the hereafter would diverge sharply with that of the woman under his protection, a route that veered abruptly in a downwards motion.

And if not for the fact he had met Krystal, he would have acknowledged such a dark outcome with grim acceptance. Six was fully aware of the horrendous deeds he had wrought in the name of humanity's survival, some to this day still troubled his stalwart mind, actions that though ordered by those in high stations, might not have truly intersected with humanity's best interests, but that of the men in power.

Cryus VII was one such troubled moment.

If Krystal were to ever discover what he had done there, what kind of monster he had forced himself to become, what manner of foul creature lay thinly hidden underneath his allegedly principled exterior, she could never look him in the eyes again.

And that would destroy him utterly. He had made a critical error as a spartan in the months he had spent amongst the Starfox team, a fatal lapse in judgment that would no doubt mean his inevitable demise.

He cared.

For Fox, Miyu, Slippy, Krystal, all of them. He had allowed for something he had all but killed within himself the very day he landed at Currahee's gates, a desire above that which he aspired to in all his days as a spartan, something he had rendered numb through his adolescent and teenage years alike.

He had allowed himself to feel.

And that in itself beckoned him to ruin.

Six had opened himself to the mortal defect that all men and woman of a morally upright disposition suffered. Without such a weakness, he had thrived in an environment no man was supposed to thrive in, had turned his misanthropic values into his greatest strengths. The very same misanthropy that would break the will of most men was what allowed him to be the hyper-lethal vector ONI desired. Only a weapon could hope to endure the trials he would have to face, so a weapon he became, unflinching in the line of duty, unwavering in the heat of battle, and wholly dedicated to the completion of the mission, no matter the cost, no matter the lives lost, innocent or guilty.

This was the past he would have to overcome if he was to have some measure of hope enjoying any meaningful existence beyond the proliferation of bloodshed. He did not expect this to be a seamless transition; the alteration from a directed weapon of mass destruction to the undeniably less violent role of a private military contractor, would require a high degree of restraint and acceptance of certain discretion towards a way of life he held little understanding in.

Despite the uncertainties he would have to face in the coming days, if he were to whether such adversities he would need guidance, and Six retained one such advantage that would see him through these desperate trials, something that offered the promise of salvation for his damaged mind.

As long as he had Krystal, he would not merely overcome a lifetime of misfortune and hardship, he would strive to excel in an unaccustomed environment and embody the vestments of a title he had never wanted nor needed, a title that even now left a bitter impression upon his thoughts. Nevertheless he would assume such an affliction, no matter the personal cost he might suffer, if for only the knowledge that it would bring a smile to the muzzle of the one he cared for most.

He would become a hero, for her he would dare to shoulder that unwanted burden, for her he would become that which she deserved.

For as long as he had Krystal, he had hope.

And that was a sentiment that had all but starved in the realm of his upbringing. For the men and women of mankind, hope was a commodity in short supply.

Six had never truly understood what that word meant until he found her, never understood how something intangible, something far beyond the eyesight of mortal man, could bolster the weary and downtrodden hearts of those that ached. In this moment, the spartan realized, all he need do to understand such a sensation was reflect upon the one he clung to most, the sound of her laugh, the sight of her smile, the mere scent of her on the breeze, all small things that would have been beyond the scope of his own understanding not so long ago. Now he cherished each treasured memory above all else in this world.

She was his hope.

In grasping this bewildering truth Six surprised himself, having always considered spartans, him above all others, far outside such... human emotion. He had not thought himself capable of such a profound degree of... feeling, to put the convoluted swirl of incomprehensible beliefs into a more interpretable description.

Although he spent much of his life simply musing within the confines of his own skull when not furiously rampaging across the fields of battle, this process might surprise more than a few people on the philosophical means he used to pass the quieter intervals. The habitual reflections had turned him into quite the adept of private deliberation. Yet offered him little guidance in regards to this particular subject, one he knew to be the hardest he had yet to tackle.

Regardless of what the outcome might be, Six would not be the same man at the end of it. For better or worse, the decision he came to would shake the very foundations of his previous existence.

He could very well continue down the path Krystal sought to lead him, a path that might be the cure to his affliction of misanthropy, or he could sever the ties that had brought him so close to this metamorphous of both mind and soul.

Down one road, he could hope to regain the life taken away from him, a life filled with familial connection and the promise of brotherhood amongst those that would fill the absence of what he had lost so long ago in his youth.

However, down the other....

Well that path was somewhat... obscure, a route that might lead to a complete relapse into the entity that found a welcoming home within the arms of secrecy and shadow, that did not care for such things as fraternal bonds or matters of the heart.

No matter the road he followed, his loyalty to Krystal would not waiver. If one thing could be said for the misery of his darker days, it was this. Once attained, his allegiance was absolute and without question. The harsh years of conditioning on behest of the Office of Naval Intelligence had seen to that. No well-trained hound was ever without its leash, whether such means of control manifested as the cold steel of a collar around his throat or the immaterial doctrine of obedience so heavily beaten into him throughout his childhood. No matter the path taken, some things would never fully leave him.

No... his loyalty would not change this day or any other.

To Six, it was merely the more private decision of what trajectory he preferred to take, and which of these conclusions would benefit his charge the most.

One would make her happy, while the other would keep her safe.

And when put into such blatant terms, the choice seemed all but apparent.

Yet if he had learned anything from the strange life he now led, it was that not everything was as cut and dry as that.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Six did not at first recognize the voice that intruded upon his deep contemplation, but upon realization that it was the very same that belonged to the object of his inner controversy; he was quick to quell his reveries in favor of returning his focus to the active world.

"Pardon?" He inquired, unable to understand what expression she had just then unleashed upon him.

The vixen giggled at the identifiable tone of consternation in his voice, her elbow thumping mutely against the thickly armored bracer to her left. "What I mean to say is what's eating you? You look even more dark and gloomy then you usually do." The smile he could see past her translucent visor lessened visibly as she seemed to consider something. "Was it something I said? I hope I did not pry too far."

The apologetic look in her eyes did not pass his notice and the spartan watched as her tail dropped low to drag through drifts of snow. Six wondered at the expressive body language these aliens seemed to have devised, an entire secondary dialect that expanded past what some might call simple human gesture in comparison. To better understand such species, one would have to be educated in not just the usual manners of ordinary communication humans relied upon, but an inherent and complex animalian vernacular they exhibited through all his observations.

His teachings in the program had comprised of more than military theorem and battlefield strategy, though these two topics were prevalent above all other fields of study. Philosophy, physics, astronomy, sociology, the spartan initiative had dabbled in a hundred different fields that spanned across a complex network of education, all aimed at the goal of creating the deadliest warriors in human history.

Six would not be boastful to say that he was a learned man, though he was not a master in any particular field, he was knowledgeable enough to understand the applied methods of each area of study. One would be astonished to discover how useful geology could be to a soldier in the field able to utilize applicable devices. An intimate understanding of the very field one fought in availed them with previously unrecognized opportunities.

But such musing was beside the point, as he had yet to respond to the vixen's apology in the minutes of silence that stretched between them.

The spartan chuckled softly, the unexpected mirth drawing an inquisitive, although wry smile from his companion.

"You did not press too far, Krystal, rather I have not pressed far enough."

 

Although confused by the mysterious nature of his response, she was glad to know any troubles of his were at no fault of her own.

Maybe I'm just getting old. The spartan wondered as his fit of mirth faded in the face of his stark mentality.

Six spent countless hours rationalizing his existence, perhaps attempting to find some form of rhyme or reason for the peculiarities his life was packed full with. From his years fighting to oppose a zealous hegemony of extraterrestrial fanatics, to his far briefer moments in trying to solve the enigmatic nature of the human condition, Six wondered which of these paths was the most fulfilling. 

Arguably, his service for the benefit of humanity seemed the obvious choice of the two, but just as his other internal quandary, the decision was not as modest as selecting either A or B.

Nevertheless, as he was prone to, Six shelved such empirical questioning in favor of other more immediate concerns. It occurred to him in that moment, that he had not asked Krystal on how she faired. The female fox had spent so much time worrying about him, yet he had never bothered to reciprocate in her kindness. Certainly, he was unused to such compassionate ways, but it was inexcusable to not at the very least try. 

"What of you Krystal, how do you fare this day?"

 

To say she was surprised to hear him ask would be a considerable underestimation of the shock she felt at his enquiry. She could not think of a single moment shared together where the spartan has inquired to the state of her emotional health, the human far too considered with her physical wellbeing.

But as startled as she was by this development, that did not stop the warm feeling that swelled up within her at his honest concern.

"I recognize that I have failed in many ways as your... significant other. I am not used to this existence, this... way of life. I have not been attentive enough, nor concerned enough to preform my duties. In this way I have failed myself... I have failed you. I have-"

 

Krystal could not bear to hear him say one more word; the complete and utter shame coating his voice was near enough to hurt her soul and ignited an unusual flare of anger within her.

"No Six, do not go down this road of self-loathing! You have not failed me in any way... Why must you always insist on being your own worst enemy, Six?" She sighed quietly in frustration that was not directed at any one source, but the situation as a whole, her muzzle curved into a sharp frown at what she had just heard. If there was one thing Krystal despised about him, it was with which the ease he ridiculed himself, so quick to put the blame on his own shoulders. If it was within his power she suspected he would carry the guilt of the entire galaxy upon his shoulders.

Krystal could never find it in herself to be mad at him for his many lapses, not after the life he had been forced to live. It was not his mistake that he could be forgetful sometimes, that he often spent so much of his time in seclusion.

No. She did not look down upon him for this, if anything she was proud of him, that he had fought so hard to overcome such adversities and harsh conditions. He was strong, stronger than anyone she had ever known, even Fox and her very own father. Yet at times, he could act so very weak, uncertain and afraid.

She could tell, whenever she looked in those profound orbs of flecked crimson, that he was afraid. Afraid of her, for her, about her, and it distressed Krystal to know that she was the foundation of his biggest fears.

How could he be so scared? What was capable of affecting such an unwavering force as Six? No matter how much he cared for her, Krystal was confident that he would never divulge the truth. The answer would be far too close to the heart for him to ever reveal. He was simply incapable of opening himself up like that.

Yet she loved him all the same.

 

Krystal had vowed that she would never abandon him. As long as she was able she would make his welfare her highest priority, if for no other reason than the fact no one else in his life had even tried. Both he and she had lost their happiness through the respective trials in their lives, and it was her hope that together, they could re-attain what they had once lost, find the bliss they equally deserved.

And while happily content with her current life, at least until she could convince Six that war was not always the answer, she could find ways for them to achieve mutual delight in the interim. Usually it was the male in the mateship that would instigate such festivities; however it was blatantly apparent to Krystal that if she did not make the effort, he never would.

The vixen would not have preferred not to push for such intimate connection so soon in their relationship, but circumstance was against them. Her season was fast approaching and she had only one outlet to satisfy her... urges. And she would be lying to herself if she said that was her only motivation.

To put it in a mortifying and crude fashion, she wished to 'make him feel good'.

After what they have been through, she felt they both deserved a little release. And who knew, it might even help him break out of the shell he hid beneath. It was certainly the most direct path to take to bring about such an outcome

But his next words struck her across the muzzle.

"I just don't want to lose you." It was... difficult, for him to admit as much to her, and he all but loathed the weakness in his voice as he released such a closely guarded secret. But it was the truth, and he never lied. Six did not wish to lose Krystal or what he had with her, this was the happiest he had ever been in the entirety of his existence. He had friends, a duty, a purpose, and above all, he had her. He had motivation to exist, a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to fight, to live... to be more than just a spartan, to be his very own man, to have a loyalty that was his choice and not to strain at the leash of a master he did not wish to serve.

Six had at last attained the freedom of choice so long denied to him.

And it terrified him that he might lose it.

 

*****

 

Krystal nearly stumbled in the snow, struggling to find the voice that has been so effortlessly stolen from her by his plaintive, near childlike statement.

He doesn't want to lose me?

The vixen knew he cared for her, quite possibly even loved her, however she had never gathered enough indication to gauge the depth of his adoration. She had known it to be high, but could have never predicated how much she actually meant to him, to the point where even a stoic man like Six was tormented by his apprehension.

And it scared her. It scared Krystal to learn that someone cared that much for her, that she could induce such powerful devotion from another living being. Yet, at the same time, another emotion swelled within her, this one quite difficult to define and powerful in its effect, a complex amalgam beyond palpable description. She was positively giddy with joy and excitement, was nearly drowned in sadness and despair, felt buffeted by acceptance and love, and was nearly blown away by an overwhelming outpouring of adulation.

But as bewildering and varied as these sentiments were, one thing was clear amidst the chaos.

She loved him all the more for it.

Who else would care for her as much as Six did? Who else would commit their life to her with such ardent dedication? Who could possibly hope to be the shield strong enough to surpass her stalwart protector?

The answer was as obvious as it was reassuring.

No one, not one being the entirety of this galaxy or any other could match the focus of her heart's desire. Not one individual could assume the many rolls Six occupied for her. He was her friend, guardian, and lover. He was a shield that sheltered her from the oncoming storm, an ear to lend for her deepest worries, and someone to keep her warm at night, to make her feel needed.

Before Six her life had been hollow and meaningless. She had never truly enjoyed her career as a mercenary, and despised the act of taking a life. But her debt to Fox was the only thing that mattered to her anymore at that point, the only thing with meaning with no world or people to call her own. Nor could she abandon the few friends she had. So a killer she had become, if a reluctant one.

But now she held no such reservations. She would fight tooth and claw, would kill without hesitation if she could secure the life she and Six deserved. Krystal did not know if that made her a bad person, or if her parents would be proud or disappointed in her if they had been alive to see her now. But that was not as important as achieving her end goals.

Six stood silently next to her, both having stopped at this lull in their conversation, the spartan waiting on bated breath for her to respond to his heartfelt proclamation. Seeking to wipe any trace of doubt from his mind that she did not fully reciprocate his affection, the vixen pressed herself against his armored torso, arms wrapping tightly around his lower back in disregard for the snowstorm encompassing an entire world as she rested her helmet against his chest, a field of cerulean filling her vision.

Slow to act yet assured in his actions, Six lowered his arms around her shoulders and permitted himself to hold her tight... if just this once, savoring what he hoped would become a more frequent occurrence.

As she cherished this exceptional and tender moment, Krystal felt an abrupt, piercing pain in the crook of her spine, an unexpected searing heat that forced a whimper from her lips. The angry sensation spread across her body and it soon was difficult to keep her weakening grip on the spartan. Gloves scrabbled to maintain their purchase as she stumbled backwards, a muffled voice echoing loudly in her ears, as if they were jammed with cotton. 

Her vision blurred and it was hard to keep sight of him as she keeled over backwards, and her legs finally seemed to shut down as she drunkenly collapsed to the ground. But before she could rest against the pillowy snow, a fierce pressure encased itself around her wrist as something latched onto her with an iron grip.

It was hard to keep thinking, though blessedly the pain had faded, to be replaced with a cool numbness that eased the ache in her muscles. The voice in her head rose from a faint growl into a deafening rumble, its words still undecipherable.

A smeared wall of azure took up the entirety of her sight and the hold on her wrist slackened, a gentle force cupping the back of her head as she gazed up into a silvery light.

It was soft and warm and welcoming. Krystal liked the light, even though it was quite bright. Closing her eyes, the vixen surrendered to the even more welcoming embrace of darkness.

It had been a nice light.


	27. The Eye

Chapter 26: The Eye

 

"Ugh... note to self, lay off the vodka."

With a stifled groan, Miyu lifted herself into an upright position, cradling her throbbing head with paws that ached just as much. Somewhat delirious, the feline took a few moments to gather her wits and take a look at her surroundings, immediately noticing something out of place.

"Well that's not right..." She muttered softly as her gaze was cut short not all that far from her head, by an endless wall of white.

Even as jumbled as her mind was, she knew that she should not be indoors. A faint memory recalled that she had been outside, though the colors in here did match what she remembered seeing before her lapse into unconsciousness.

Her brain wondered at her current situation but instincts hammered into her by drill sergeants back in the feline's CDF days, ordered her to evaluate the immediate situation.

Alright, so I'm in an enclosed space with no view of the sky. She took a deeper look at the walls surrounding her. Looks like snow... It soon dawned on her. Crap, must have stepped on an unstable embankment. A quick check of her comms told her that it was either jammed or the interference from the cave was too thick for a signal to get out, which meant that her emergency beacon wouldn't work either. If that last part was true, then she was really down deep. For once, she hoped the Remnant was responsible.

Otherwise...

The feline clamped down on the rising panic she felt at precariousness of her current predicament. Losing her head would not help any and would in fact hinder her chances of survival. What she needed to do was find her way out of here, and if that failed, find some place where she could get a signal out through whatever it was hampering her ability to call for help.

Miyu's dread lessened now that she had a strategy to follow and the feline quickly rose to her feet, paws running across her environmental suit to check for breaches or any potential damage to the electronics. If the suit had been ruptured, her chances of survival would have dropped drastically.

Thankfully, a quick examination alleviated that concern. Though battered by the fall, the tough fabric was untorn and the thin layering of steel plating was little worse for wear other than a few new scratches that had not been there before.

With her suit integrity now secured she scanned the frozen turf of the snowy cavern for her weapon, if there were Remnant forces nearby, she could not afford to be unarmed. A brief exclamation of satisfaction slipped through her lips as she spied the lower half of her blaster sticking out of the pile of snow that had followed her rapid descent.

She allowed herself a small smile of success at the little bit of good news and plucked the weapon from the ground, fixing the strap onto a shoulder as she looked for a direction to pick.

The cavern lead off in two directions, each opposite from the other, leading Miyu to believe that she might have fallen straight into the middle of a larger, more complex cave system.

The feline huffed in annoyance at such dismal luck and reached into a pouch on her chest, a flash of metal glinting off her headlamp in the inky blackness of the unlit hall of ice.

"Right... heads or tails?" Miyu mumbled, flicking the ancient coin into the air, swiftly catching it and smacking the outdated currency onto the back of her paw before taking a look at her findings.

"Well... heads it is then." She decided with a shrug before heading down the chosen naturally formed corridor.

 

*****

 

"Stay with me!"

 

His composure all but shattered, the spartan bellowed into the comms link as he dragged the motionless vixen away from the hail of crimson heat igniting the air around him with sizzling death. The rifle in his free arm hissed and snarled in savage fury as he emptied the clip toward the bearing of incoming fire, the heftier bolts of ionized energy and molten metal, screaming across the sky to strike down their ambushers with righteous vindication.

Six looked to her again, and despaired upon the sight of her shuttered eyelids.

"Do not die on me. Not now. Not after..." The spartan's voice failed him, so he let his animosity howl in its place.

A feral snarl that would intimidate even the mightiest lion, tore past his lips as the spartan forced more exertion into his retaliation, slugs of energized tungsten smashing into venomian infantry armor with bone crushing force. Bodies littered the hoary field before him, crimson sheets pooling out from broken corpses to stain the once pristine snowscape before quickly freezing over in the sub-arctic conditions. Nevertheless it was not enough to slake his thirst for vengeance. It would never be enough; a mountain of dead would not be sufficient reconciliation for what these beasts had done.

For whom they had hurt...

Six raged and roared at his adversaries, molten iron searing through his veins in a rush of fire and hate that demanded the foes before him burn in wicked hellfire. 

His blood seethed within him as his fury called for hellish retribution. Though it was his mind that called for a greater purpose, the preservation of what he cherished most. Acting on wild instinct, it locked down on his emotions within a cage of iron discipline and forced the taciturn control of logic to prevail.

Find shelter.

 

Treat injuries.

 

Request support.

 

Destroy hostile threat.

 

These instructions would have to be carried out in that exact order. He could not risk deviation, not when her life was on the line. He unreservedly desired the total annihilation of those that wounded her, but his distress over the vixen's health was strong enough to restrain his baser instincts.

Inserting a fresh magazine into his rifle with a thin veneer of rigid composure he most certainly did not possess, Six layered down a murderous barrage of precision gunfire as he crested a particularly large dune of snow. Sliding down the incline, he gently lowered the comatose vixen to the base of the mound. Ripping the remaining stock of grenades on his bandolier, he lobbed them over the rise in a cluster of imminent death.

Even as the ground bucked underneath and a scorching wave of heat washed over him, the spartan was already focused on the delicate task at hand, turning Krystal on her back with uncharacteristically tender care to examine the significance of her injury.

An ugly patch of red met his vision; the sight of blood, her blood, only serving to reignite the spartan's fury to levels that it had not climbed for more than a decade. What he felt as he looked to the one he cared so much for, someone towards whom he had failed in his duties...

It far surpassed rage.

It was not anger.

It was not hate.

It was not even fury.

It was an emotion inexpressible by mortal means.

Armored fingers worked with diligence and experience as he swiftly reached into a hardcase and extracted a can of biofoam, hastily sealing away the wound even as he reached into another pouch on the vixen's person with intent to plug the hole in her suit with emergency sealant.

Krystal did not move as he worked. Her breathing was shallow, inconsistent, and hard to pin, even with their steady comm connection. Every time he could not hear it for more than a moment, his heart lurched in his chest, only to settle upon hearing her release a feeble wheeze, or cough.

Something snapped in his hands and the spartan could only stare in stupefaction as the can of biofoam exploded, the pressurized contents finding release as his plated digits crushed the canister in a grip as hard as iron, the foam splattering against his shields.

All Six could think in that moment was that he was glad he had used it before it was rendered useless.

The spartan stared at gauntlets curled into quivering fists, a reaction replicated only twice before in his entire lifetime, the first being on Cyrus VII. However, in this instance, it was far more pronounced. The sight brought an odd recollection to his wandering mind; an ONI officer had hands that did much the same from some medical malady, palsy he thought it was called.

A sudden urge to kill flooded through his mind, an unbending desire to crush bone and rend flesh as muscles tensed with the need to end lives. His trigger finger spasmed erratically as he fumbled for his rifle with unsteady hands, the weapon swaying tremulously in his grip with none of the usual structured rigidity it was used to.

He moved to stand, fully intending to slaughter every living soul in a 350 kilometer radius when he felt pressure on his wrist, equivalent to that of a frail embrace. His blood rage froze before it could fully consume him as Six looked down to match the weak fluttering of an emerald gaze with frantic crimson eyes.

Near half his strength deserted him as relief swept through his body, a soothing mantra echoing in his murderous thoughts to douse the burgeoning flames as he dropped to his knees.

She's alive. She's awake. She's okay.

 

Those three definitive truths calmed him to a degree unrivaled in any attempt ONI had ever made to curb his... darker tendencies when he passed their extensive scale of acceptable bloodshed.

This was fortunate, as he might have even attacked Fox in such a violent state of mind. He also realized, with some degree of dismay and internal contempt, that he had been about to leave her alone to fulfill his quest for blood. The realization that he had been fully ready to abandon her in her current state filled the spartan with a powerful, inwardly aimed disgust.

He would have wondered what kind of monster would do that if he had not already known the truth within himself. Instead he focused the entirety of his attention on her eyes, their dimmed glow filling him with an emotion he not experienced in some time. The last he recalled its touch had been in his childhood, the day he watched his mother die.

Six collapsed under the weight of his memories, rifle lying forgotten upon the ground as he lifted a far more important object close to his chest, careful not to exasperate the vixen's injury as he held her close, simply content with the reassuring certainty that she was still alive. The world ceased to exist around him, the only thing that mattered in that moment was the precious individual he held in his unrelenting grip, something he had been on the precipice of losing.

The spartan pressed his helmet against hers; drinking in the vixen's verdant gaze with the same intensity as a man dying from thirst drank from a well. It was then in that moment that Six realized something that shattered all his worldly perceptions.

He would let the galaxy burn if that would keep her safe. It was a powerful and mysterious feeling, unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a sensation he could not calculate by any known means, that which was beyond quantification. All he knew to be certain was that he would never let anything take her away from him.

"Don't leave me." He implored in a quiet whisper, clutching her close as a child did with a stuffed animal to ward off the darkness of the night. His ordinarily unbreakable mental bulwarks were all but devastated at this point as he grasped the gravity of his circumstances, just how close he had been, and still was, to losing the one person in his life that kept him grounded. This only established in his mind the importance Krystal held for his emotive wellbeing.

Too weak to speak, she instead smiled, her ivory fangs darkened by a thin coating of crimson as blood welled up in her mouth.

Blood in mouth, inconsistent breathing... both signs of severe injury.

 

His mind attempted to process the situation with the accustomed impartiality with which he had conducted himself for all these years.

Yet as he stared down at her bloodied smile... at the woman that sought to comfort him even now as she lay dying...

Something inside him gave way, an adamantine psychosomatic bulwark, which buckled under the overwhelming release of a lifetime of inhibited emotion that had finally pushed to the fore of a mind that had buried it down for so long.

His sight of the vixen blurred gradually as a faint patter of sound made itself known to him, the spartan's vision obscured by some manner of condensation that had rapidly developed inside his helmet.

Wait... condensation?

 

That wasn't right. His helmet had preventative measures for environmental affects, condensation included.

The spartan shook his head in abject shock as the truth dawned on him, undeniable hot and warm tracks of liquid running rivulets down his cheeks to splash wetly against his silver visor.

Am I... crying?

 

This realization was an utterly unexpected revelation as he attempted to grasp what was happening to him. Spartans did not cry. It was an undeniable fact of their existence. To cry was to admit weakness, and spartans were not weak, in fact they abhorred it. This was not right, he should not be crying. He knew this.

So why was it impossible to stop?

Despite his best attempt to quell the tears, they did not stop. He was ashamed, humiliated, and uncertain on how to handle this problematic situation.

"Don't worry... it'll be... okay." Krystal crooned softly, a gloved paw brushing affectionately across his helmet in an attempt to sooth his blatant distress, even as weak as she was. 

In the end it was her gentle voice and tender touch that suppressed his grief to a distinctly manageable level. If she could speak, then her predicament was not as dire as he might have believed. There was hope. Once more he repeated the calming chant that she would be fine, vowing to worry about such petty things as his own emotions at a later time when she was not so grievously wounded.

The spartan leaned willingly into her affectionate care, despite how uncomfortable this action made him. Krystal was more important to Six then something as trivial as his personal discomposure, and he would be lying if he were to express that he did not enjoy the sensation of her touch.

"Don't die." He begged her, not knowing what else to say or what he would do if she were to leave him alone, the very thought absolutely terrifying him with its connotations. He could not live without her, not anymore. He could not go back to that life, could not face the demons he had left in the wake of his newfound happiness. Not on his own.

"Not planning... to." The vixen chuckled weakly, her bloodied smile still lingering as she put on a brave face for him. Not that it would fool Six in the slightest, he could tell that she was in a great deal of pain, a truth that sought to feed the flames of his wrath once more. If not for the reassuring paw she kept clasped on his helmet's cheek, he might have tried to resume his path of vengeance, cleaving a bloody swath across the planetside.

Nonetheless this admission brought a mirroring, if unaccustomed, smile to Six's face. If she could joke, she was in good condition.

"I'll get in contact with Fox and call for help." As far as Six was concerned, this mission was aborted until she could be safely extracted and put under the most stringent medical care The Great Fox could provide.

The spartan lifted a gauntlet to the side of his helmet to fiddle with his exterior communication equipment, hoping he could get a signal out to the vulpine, or at least Slippy, so the toad could bring the ship around for extraction.

His other hand lowered, wrapping firmly around Krystal's untenanted paw. The supersoldier had no intention of letting her go until her safety was all but guaranteed. At the moment their situation was relatively stable, her injuries were treated to the best of his abilities and it looked as if his fierce counterattack had driven off the Remnant threat for the foreseeable future.

Six swore with the utmost dedication that he would kill every last one of those bastards the moment he was off his leash.

There would be no prisoners this day, not if he could help it.

As luck would have it, Six was actually able to reach Fox relatively quickly given the turbulent nature of the wintery storm, the vulpine sounding somewhat jovial as he answered.

"Hey Six what's going on? Find Katt yet?"

 

The first time he tried to speak he failed, the spartan having to take a moment to compose himself and reassume some semblance of military doctrine. The spartan was unused to the need of keeping his personal feelings in check, it having become second nature throughout his life. As it as now, he found it near impossible to do so.

"Negative, we have been engaged by Remnant forces. Krystal is wounded and in critical condition, requesting reinforcement or extraction."

 

There was a long, uneasy pause.

"Fuck... is she okay?" Fox's agitation was noticeable in his exponentially heated tone as all sense of amusement was erased from his voice to be replaced by blunt urgency.

"Her injury has been treated. But I cannot hold this position or pursue enemy forces until she has been safely recovered." The spartan retrieved his rifle in his unused gauntlet, glaring at the rise of the snow dune above him and the sparse protection it offered, from both the elements and any perceived threat. "Current location is indefensible."

 

It was obvious the tod's questions were legion, but he wisely shoved them away to address in a less critical setting as he went straight to business.

"Right, activate the emergency transponder on Krystal's utility belt and I'll have Slip zero in on your position for a quick pick up with medical supplies on standby. I don't like the idea of the ship flying around in this weather but this makes for a damn good exception. Expect exfil in fifteen minutes. Can you hold that long?"

 

"Affirmative, requesting permission to pursue enemy forces once she has been extracted."

 

Fox paused once more.

"Six, I want you on that bird with her."

 

The spartan wanted that too, by the gods and spirits he did, but Six could not reconcile with himself, could not in fact live with himself, if he did not exact retribution to the fullest extent of his abilities. This was what he had been bred to do, exact retribution against those that caused harm to the ones under his protection, be it mankind or the vixen he had sworn to defend to his dying breath. The spartan would rather not disobey Fox's orders, but he would if he must. So, though it gnawed at his pride, Six made a desperate plea, hoping that would be enough to sway his friend's mind.

"I must insist... they hurt her, Fox."

 

He could hear the vulpine's sigh of resignation.

"Alright, you can go after them. Just make sure to kick the ever living shit out of them. Teach those Remnant fuckers to not mess with our family."

 

"On your orders..." Six severed the comm connection, turning to the absent gaze of his female companion. "Don't worry, help is on the way. Slip will be here soon." He gave her paw the mildest squeeze he was capable of and hoped it would convey a sufficient degree of comfort and affirm in her mind that he would protect her though he had already failed once before.

Krystal nodded weakly, the vixen struggling to perform even the most minor movements. The pain had numbed into a dull ache now, but she had not yet regained her strength. She hoped Six would be satisfied with that as every effort to talk thus far in had been a monumental task in itself.

Seeing as they would be stuck here till Slippy arrived with the shuttle, Six lowered himself into a semi-reclined position beside the wounded vixen, carefully maneuvering the female fox up and on to his lap. A slight frown found itself on his scarred visage as he made a small, rare personal concession, propping Krystal up to lean against his chest. It was not a situation he was used to, or at ease with, but this would keep her close, and that was exactly what he needed. At this intimate a range, his shield would modify itself to envelop her as well.

Krystal did not speak with him, did not do much other than breath loudly enough to convince the spartan that she was still alive, and while she did not evoke such musing aloud, she did find the position to be reassuring and surprisingly pleasant given the circumstances. The supportive inflexibility of his armored torso against her spine and the soothing weight of his equally steel-clad arms draped over her shoulders, allowed the fairly delirious vixen to entreat the spirits that this would not be the last time he held her like this.

It almost made getting shot worth it.

Almost...

Ow... She grumbled internally as her injury agonizingly chaffed against the newly sealed patch of her suit. It felt as if a heated brand had been applied to her lower back, and she was fairly confident that she had suffered a severe burn of some kind, but it could have been much worse.

Trying to pull her mind away from the pain, she lifted her muzzle to glance at Six's impassive helmet, watching as the human supersoldier stared off into the snowscape and wondering what was going through the spartan's mind at that very moment. Perhaps it was her currently out-of-sort thought process, but the vixen had been certain she had seen him trembling not so long ago. Even now if she stared long enough, she could observe the indistinct aftershocks cascading through his arms. 

Irrefutably, she had heard the unfamiliar notes of hysteria in his voice as he had pleaded with her to live, an unfamiliar and equally unpleasant experience the vixen had never heard before, no matter how dire their circumstances had been. He had taken no consideration with putting his own life on the line, time and time again, and yet it seemed when she found herself in a similar situation, he lost all form of his remarkable order and discipline. 

The vixen prayed that she would never hear him so distraught again. It was as disheartening as it was unnerving to hear and bear witness to the human's loss of control. She had felt his despair wash over her, and the surge of fury in his heart had nearly made her nauseous. Krystal was unware that any sapient creature could hold onto so much rage, even as well as she knew him this came off as a surprise. It had almost affected her like an actual sickness, a sour taste on her lips and a potent ache in her stomach that was not directly responsible from her injury.

Yet it was just another piece of the unendingly complicated enigma that was Noble Six.

She would have dwelled on her considerations more if not for the constant stabbing pain in her lower extremities, which was ironically a good thing. If she could still feel pain in her legs than that meant they still worked, in theory.

The vixen was too weak to move them at the moment but spirits willing, once she had some rest and returned to the ship, they would recover in time.

In a bid to drown out the pain, she focused her drive on calculating the fifteen minute mark for Slippy's arrival, counting each second as it passed as an alternative to dwelling on her aches. She had been hurt before, her time as a mercenary was not without its occasional scratch, but this event was marked as the worst of any injury she had received. Admittedly however, it was not as serious as it must have looked, at least compared to what could have happened.

She was lucky that the Remnant soldier had targeted that place specifically, one of the few location on her environmental suit that was heavily protected. The plating may have been to reduce impact injuries from falls, but it served just as well for dulling the heat of an energy weapon. 

One thing Krystal was coming to realize from this whole debacle, was that she was maybe a little more than slightly envious of Six's armor. She could have certainly used it at that particular moment. She intended to make a joke about it, but after some deep thinking, firmly decided against it. The vixen's empathetic capability was unneeded for her to see the crushing guilt that Six burdened his shoulders with. It was clear as day to Krystal that he solely blamed himself for her situation, which was foolish, as it was the vixen's own actions that led to her receiving that blaster bolt to the back. She had been the one to initiate the embrace that allowed them to get caught off guard, yet she knew that would not be enough to sway the spartan's firmly held belief that he was at fault.

Six took any failure as a personal one. If there was an accident, or something went wrong, it must be because he failed at some point between then and now. If she hadn't already learned enough from their many conversations, Krystal might have asked herself what could have been responsible for ingraining this horrid ideal in his head. She did not know what this ONI was, but they should be thankful they did not exist here, for if they had, they would learn just how fearsome a vixen's wrath could be.

Before she could plot further hypothetical revenge scenarios, she noticed that the snowstorm had grown even more erratic, flurries of white powder sucked up in some powerful wind. Six shifted underneath her, and suddenly the vixen found her world view shifting till her vision leveled with the height of his breastplate. She winced as weight was added to the area just above her wound, the direct result of her new position in Six's arms. The spartan lifted her to his chest; bulky arms nestled behind her shoulders and underneath her knees as he held her in a tight, but reasonably comfortable grip.

She came to realize what the cause of the strange weather was, when the familiar and welcomed sight of the shuttle appeared from out of the storm clouds that encompassed the planet from hemisphere to hemisphere. The transport's flood lights bathing the immediate area in a blinding light as it quickly set down; nearly crashing into the snow as it deployed its landing struts several hundred yards from their position. Even as the spacecraft landed, Six was on the move, plowing a straight path right towards it as fast as he could without aggravating her wound.

As he stepped up to the shuttle, Krystal watched as the ramp extended out from under the aft, a somewhat rotund toad hurriedly waddling down as he struggled to carry a rather hefty looking case.

"Hey guys, I came as fast as I could. Are you alright, Krystal?" Slippy blabbered worriedly and near breathlessly as he rushed out to meet them.

Krystal found herself smiling at the sincere toad, encouraged at the sight of her favorite kindhearted amphibian, emboldening her to speak. "Don't worry, Slip. I'll live, Six here saved my life." She patted the supersoldier on the arm and grinned up at him, yet the man remained silent, no doubt still in a brooding mood.

Her smile faded.

"Suppose I shouldn't expect anything otherwise." Slippy chuckled uncomfortably, ushering the burdened spartan inside to the more welcoming environment within the shuttle. The toad slapped the door switch as the spartan ascended the ramp, sealing the ship and allowing them to remove their environmental suits.

Almost before the magnetic seal of the ramp clamped it shut, Krystal had removed her helmet and tossed it away to roll into the corner, all but forgotten the moment it left her paw. The vixen inhaled a deep lungful of breath and exhaled in relief that she had made it back, away from all the snow and ice. Though, she had yet to rid herself of the pain.

As if on cue, Slippy popped open the trauma kit and handed Six a hypodermic needle. The spartan, having some experience with cornerian medical tools, quickly identified, grabbed the syringe, and jabbed it into the meat of her arm.

The affects were almost instantaneous.

Her muscles loosened and the glaring pain faded into a dull, much more manageable ache that was just faint enough for her to ignore.

"Thanks." She gave him a weak, relieved smile.

The spartan nodded tersely as he dropped the spent syringe and gently lowered her down on one of the shuttle's seats, the cushioned padding offering her a comfortable place to rest that was not in the human's arms. The vixen coiled her tail in her lap, keeping the appendage far away from her lower spine. In front of her, Slippy hastily rummaged inside the medical case. Like every member of the team, he had at least a rudimentary knowledge of first aid and had been trained how to deal with situations like this.

"Don't worry Krys, you'll be all fixed up in no time." The toad assured her as he pulled out his first instrument. "I've been studying this medical stuff in my free time for a few months now, and I have orders to patch you up and drop you off back at the Great Fox."

Hearing that bit of news she didn't know whether to feel relieved at the prospect of returning to the ship or guilty that her injury was proving to be an inconvenience to the rest of the team.

"Are you okay?"

 

Krystal turned to Six as the spartan loomed protectively over her, finally breaking his protracted silence. Now that they were safe back on the ship, the spartan's shoulders were no longer as hunched and his posture lost much of its rigidity as he allowed himself to relax by a small fraction. But still she worried for him, as she talked with Slippy she had noticed his visored gaze linger on his gauntlets, which were still stained with her blood.

Even as she struggled to stay upright in her seat, her concern was more focused on the human than for herself. Krystal could sense the answer to that question was more important to him then he would ever let on. He needed to hear it from her before he could find peace of mind.

The vixen made sure her answering nod was confident and that her voice was unwavering. It took a great deal of effort, but she managed to focus enough to reply.

"I'm okay, Six. I'll be alright."

In response, the spartan's stance flagged and she heard the faint, telltale exhalation of pent up stress leave him.

"Good." The human supersoldier's helm dipped in acknowledgment, gauntlets already in motion as he unholstered his rifle and reached over her head, pulling a helmet over her muzzle with tender care.

Confused, she allowed him to close the seals on her suit once more, turning to an equally confused Slippy as they both watched him rekey the ramp to deploy.

"What are you doing?" Krystal asked, a growing sense of unease tugging at her.

"There are Remnant soldiers that need to die." He answered with an unnerving degree of detachment, all warmth having receded from his voice in favor of a chilling coldness that sent her heart plummeting in a free fall.

She knew that tone of voice.

That was the killer, the weapon his people had forced him to become. That was the voice he used back in his earliest days with the team, and was usually the harbinger of impending violence.

She readied to speak, to hopefully dissuade him from taking a path she dearly wished him to abandon. As much as she would have liked to even the score with the bastard that had shot her, she was not so eager to see Six regress and return to the impassive executioner he had once been, but the spartan did not give her the opportunity to sway his mind. He was already halfway down the ramp before she even opened her mouth, his parting words echoing in her thoughts long after he had disappeared into the blizzard.

"They tried to take something from me. I will take something from them."

 

The frown that twisted Krystal's muzzle was incapable of projecting the profound sadness she felt within her as she watched him leave, consumed by the demons he fought so hard to contain.

She knew what he would take from them, and what he would take from himself.

 

*****

 

"Fuck, do you think we lost it?"

Panting and out of breath, Oswald was barely able to disguise the sheer panic in his voice as he turned to his remaining cohorts. The reptile could still scarcely believe the downward spiraling chain of horrific events that had just come to pass, his mind still trying to analyze how everything had gone so wrong so quickly. One thing he did know was that a mistake had just been made. They pissed off something very powerful and very dangerous.

I should have never shot at that blue bitch.

 

Their unit of forty-five battle-hardened soldiers had plummeted to just twenty desperate survivors in less than five minutes. How the hell were they supposed to know that the Starfox team had acquired some kind of supersoldier?

"I don't know. What the fuck was that thing?" Norm demanded, casting a fearful glance in the direction they had taken off running from. The simian had been his friend all throughout boot and since then trouble always seemed to follow them.

But something about this time was different.

"Some kind of CDF special project I reckon. I heard that their scientists have been cooking up some crazy stuff right on this very planet." Kelso, their acting leader hypothesized. The lizard found himself filling in the role after Dully ate a blaster bolt in the first few seconds of the laughably one-sided firefight.

Oswald was still picking frozen pieces of the ape's brain matter from the fabric of his enviro suit.

"Well whatever it is, I say we get the hell out of here, make a run for the ship and just tell General Veers she wasn't here."

Oswald thought that Norm might have been on to something. That option was looking more and more tempting by the second. He had enough of this stupid planet, the constant need for environmental suits that barely kept the cold at bay, the sensation of constantly being hunted that searching an enemy planet brought on. There were a lot of reasons he agreed with the idea, that killer robot was simply the point to tip him over.

He wasn't willing to die just to find some cornerian spy, no matter what "military secrets" she may or may not have stolen. Some of his fellows might have scolded him for his lack of patriotism, but most of them were dead now.

The reptile was certain the surviving members of his unit shared the same point of view.

Kelso arrived on his decision only moments after the suggestion had been aired. The gecko nodded to himself. "Right, we never found her ship."

A chorus of nods quickly confirmed this prescribed statement.

"Good, than let's head back to the shuttle." Consulting his data tool, Kelso set the marker for their ship and set off to lead the way.

He was dead before he took his first step.

Oswald cried out in shock as Kelso met the fate of his superior, the reptilian's head disappearing in an explosion of skull fragments and superheated brain matter. Even as the headless corpse flopped to the snow covered landscape, the soldier had already thrown himself to the ground, ignoring the eruption of scattered blaster bolts and cries of pain as the small party desperately attempted to fight back against their unseen assailant, far too focused on crawling as far away from the soon-to-be slaughter as his body could take him.

In the ten seconds it took for the Kelso's headless carcass to connect with the snowscape and for Oswald to start his escape, twelve of their remaining contingent of twenty had already met an analogous fate. The reptile could see it all from his prone position as he hurried to escape the kill zone, powerful bolts of energy reaping out of the blizzard to cut down his companions like helpless stalks of wheat before the scythe's razor sharp edge.

Once he was fairly confident that he had distanced himself enough to make a run for it, Oswald jumped to his feet and against his better judgment, risked a glance back, just in time to watch Norm die and catch a glimpse of their ruthless attacker.

It seemed as if Norm had the same idea as his friend, though he was unlucky enough to pick the wrong direction to flee towards. The ape's flight was arrested as he ran full bodily into what looked like an invisible wall, and Oswald did not need to be standing next to him to hear his bones break. Norm flew backwards in a heap of fractured limbs, skidding across the snow as if he had tackled an oncoming hovercar. Then, as if the simian's actions had summoned their worst nightmares into reality, a towering figure materialized into existence, a hulking specter of death enclosed in a colossal suit of blue plate. It had to have been a machine, no cornerian or lylatian could possibly be that large or so utterly unstoppable.

Oswald could do nothing but stare as it approached his fallen friend, stopping in front of the pitiful ape as he whimpered in pain. Then in a flash the robot's weapon was in sight and it pulsed three times, billeting a blaster bolt into his friend's skull, shortly before depositing two follow up shots into his chest, the high powered rounds ripping the simian apart.

That was all the reptile needed to see to convince himself to get the fuck out of there before he too joined his friend. Not caring where he was going as long as it was away from there, Oswald took off like a rocket, arms and legs pumping like pistons as he put as much distance between himself and the killer death machine as he could.

 

*****

 

"Whelp, this is boring as shit."

The ice cavern Miyu had accidently fallen into was even bigger than she had first thought it to be, and even more of a drag on her attention span. As time trudged on, her concern for survival and finding her friends had slowly faded, substituted by jaded disinterest as she wandered the identical and seemingly unending halls of ice.

She had enough supplies in her survival kit and with the O2 scrubber in her suit, she could survive relatively comfortably for at least a few days, though she hoped to get rescued or find a way out long before those items became an immediate concern.

Personally, she was banking more on getting out on her own, as the idea of anyone finding her in this icy labyrinth was almost laughable. She'd have better luck digging her way out of here before the team would find her.

And it looks like I forgot to bring a shovel.

The feline sighed as she came across another fork in the path, eyeing both paths with equal amounts of disdain, even as she readied her coin for another toss. Miyu set the old coin on her thumb and prepared to flip it when her left ear flicked of its own accord, zeroing in on the adjacent tunnel.

Freezing in place, she strained to hear what it was that triggered her senses, picking up what sounded like a voice echoing down the passage towards her.

Shouldering her blaster and quieting her steps, Miyu followed the murmuring, the pathway taking her to the lip of a larger cavern that emitted a warm orange glow. Using the scope on her blaster, the feline peered inside, a grin growing wide on her muzzle as she studied the makeshift campsite erected within. 

Miyu lowered her weapon and strode forwards, her throaty chuckle echoing in the sonorous confines of the cave system as she made her presence known.

"There you are, always the last place anyone would expect."

The other feline, lustrous fur shinning a bright pink as it reflected off the fire's light, turned in surprise from her gaze into the flames, shocked to see one of the last people she expected to find her.

"Miyu, what are you doing out here? How did you find me?" Katt wondered in astonishment, a smaller smile reflected at her friend as she rose to a standing position.

"A little planning and a lot of luck. You know, there are quite a few people after you." Miyu stated as she stepped forwards and embraced her friend, curious eyes roving across the makeshift encampment that Katt had made for herself.

It wasn't much to be honest, a pile of chem logs resting near a stack of supply crates, an electric heater resting near a large, overly comfortable sleeping bag, and bits of empty food wrappers scattered haphazardly across the expanse. It was clear by the refuse that Katt had been here for quite some time, at least two weeks by Miyu's reckoning.

A relieved sigh passed through the other feline's lips. "I'm just glad you were the first. Are the others here too?"

"What do you think? Fox rustled up the usual crusade when he found out you were in trouble."

"And Falco... was he worried at all?" The pink feline tried to come off as casual, but Miyu easily saw through that.

"How many times do I have to tell you, girl?" Miyu sighed in annoyance as she moved away from the hug, arms locked on the other cat's shoulders as she brought a frustrated glare down upon her. "You're better off forgetting about that arrogant chicken." Personally, she was tired of watching the pitiable song and dance that was Katt's affection towards Falco. In her opinion, that featherhead was completely undeserving of a girl like Katt, which was made all the more obvious by his lack of concern over her condition.

"I know, but can you please just tell me?"

Miyu rolled her eyes. "Sure, you'll be happy to hear he showed absolutely no worry over your disappearance."

Katt's expression wilted upon hearing the news, which only sought to make her friend that much more disgruntled with the bird. "You can talk to the idiot later about it. For now, we should see about getting you back to the ship. We leave as soon as you've grabbed whatever you need from here."

"But, what about the Remnant?" Katt inquired worriedly as she hesitantly moved round her campsite, gathering the items she couldn't do without. "Surely you know they're after me."

Miyu scoffed. "Those pushovers? Don't worry, as long as Fox's new muscle is around, they won't be a problem."

"New muscle?" Katt raised an eyebrow? "What, he's got a new crewmember?"

"Yeah, and you can bet your ass he'll bring the hurt to anyone that crosses this team." Miyu declared with confidence and a boastful chuckle.

"That good huh?" The pink cat inquired, now even more curious about this person Fox thought was worth bringing on to his team. From what she knew about the vulpine, he was not usually in the habit of expanding his group past very close friends.

"I guarantee the new guy's even better than you think."

Katt smirked. "Sounds like you're pretty impressed by him." At the very least Miyu was certainly playing him up quite a bit.

Upon hearing Katt's smug tone, the other feline was quick to shift gears. "Yeah well... what can I say? He's good. You done yet? We should probably get moving. I'm sure you're eager to get out of here. You're berth on the Great Fox is the same way you left it and Fay will be excited to see ya."

"Yeah, and where is the antisocial ball of fur, thought she's be rolling with you?"

"We were... separated when I kinda... fell through a hole in the snow." Miyu winced at the oncoming rolling laughter from her friend, Katt giggling mercilessly at the news. 

"I know it's hilarious, a real gut buster. Can we get going now?" The lynx muttered sullenly.

This was not at all how she planned this conversation going down.

"I suppose we're lucky I still remember the way out of here." Katt's chuckling faded a she slung a bulging rucksack over her shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here. I've had about as much snow and ice as I can take. I can't wait to get back to my bunk on The Great Fox, assuming that it's still there that is?"

"Yep, just like it was the day you left." Miyu affirmed with a nod as she followed after the other feline down a different corridor of ice.

"Just like I left..." Katt muttered thoughtfully, recalling that day in clear detail.

"I'll reiterate. He's no good for you Katt. He doesn't respect you, and he certainly doesn't seem to care either. I can't see whatever it is you see in that arrogant pillow stuffing."

Katt frowned, her ears drooping slightly as she sighed in exasperation. "Maybe I can't either. He's changed, not the same guy he used to be." 

"Really?" Miyu wondered doubtfully as they made their way through the frozen caverns. "Seems like the same Grade-A asshole to me."

"He wasn't always like that. Back then, in the old days he was less... assholey?" Katt struggled for a better definition. "So how about the new guy?" She asked, hoping to change what was a difficult subject for her. "What's his name?"

"His name is Six, and be sure not to joke about that when you meet him." Miyu cautioned her friend.

"Six huh... kind odd but I can roll with that. So what about him? Species, height, sign, eye color... muscles? Come on girl, give me some deets." The pink feline looked to Miyu expectantly.

The lynx smirked. "You'll just have to wait till you meet him."

"Lame." Katt's pink tongue flicked out of her mouth.

"Whatever, just slap a helmet on before we reach the surface, don't won't your tongue freezing off."

Chuckling at Miyu's grumbling, Katt eventually did as asked as they neared the entrance. It wasn't all that far away from where the decided to set up camp, about an hour's walk from her campsite to the mouth of the cave.

"So, what's the plan? Do I head back to my ship or..."

Katt trailed off as she stepped into the open, driven speechless by a spectacle she considered most peculiar.

Miyu grasped for the blaster slung over her shoulder as she caught sight of the Remnant soldier that was on a direct collision course with them, and was about to tell Katt to run back inside and take aim at the approaching enemy, when she realized two things.

The reptile wasn't armed, and appeared to be running for his life if the terrified scream belting from his lungs and flailing arms was any indication.

Startled and confused, Miyu hesitantly lowered her weapon, marveling at the unusual display.

"What in the hell?"

The lynx recoiled at the sudden disappearance of the venomian's left leg, and sudden explosion of sound that followed shortly after its abrupt detonation. Filaments of flesh and bone filled the air in a gruesome display as the Remnant soldier tumbled into the snow, sobbing in agony as he cradled the jagged stump where a leg had once been.

Miyu and Katt were left watching in stupefaction as a colossal steel-clad figure seemed to materialize out of the ether, the lynx recognizing the heavily armored form of Starfox's local supersoldier as he unhurriedly strode towards the whimpering figure before him with a deliberate, carefully measured pace, wisps of steam venting from the glowing barrel of his enormous rifle. 

The spartan prodded the prone reptilian, a thickly armored boot forcing the venomian onto his back with the faint crack of broken ribs. The genetically augmented warrior crouched beside the Remnant soldier, coiling a gauntlet around his throat and silencing the reptile's wretched whimpering.

Soon, the venomian began to thrash about wildly, the spartan's grip tightening around the reptile's throat with agonizing deliberateness as he dragged the rasping individual off the ground to dangle helplessly in the air before the spartan's impassive, visored gaze.

No words were exchanged as the augmented warrior mutely studied the fading light in the reptilian's panicked eyes.

Then there was a sharp crack, the Remnant soldier's neck twisting violently in reaction to the minute pressure exerted by the spartan's gauntlet, a crimson spurt of blood seeping through the human's armored digits. Six held up the corpse for another thirty seconds before relinquishing his grip to watch the carcass flop to the snowy ground.

The spartan stood motionless for a further fifteen seconds before his helmet swiveled towards the stunned pair as he addressed the one he recognized with a numbing cordiality.

"Miyu..."

 

The lynx was too speechless to respond, the feline still struggling to process what she had just witnessed. Despite all the effortless bloodshed she had watched him doll out upon his enemies, this was the first time it had been so... personal. 

"You must be Katt." The spartan ignored the lynx's lack of response as he turned to address the one between the two he had yet to meet.

"I... uh... yeah." The pink cat's eyes rolled in their sockets and she flopped to the ground unconscious.

The spartan's helmet tilted peculiarly as the feline fainted.

"Curious..." He rumbled offhandedly, scooping up the unconscious female and her belongings before turning to speak with Miyu.

"Are you ready to depart?" 

 

At that moment, her voice returned to her at full blast.

"What the hell was that about Six?" The lynx demanded as she gestured towards the corpse. Seeing something like that, she wanted an explanation.

"Ballistic telemetry software traced the blaster bold that hit Krystal to the gun of this soldier." He answered casually, as if the answer was all but apparent.

The only thing Miyu took from his clarification was that Krystal had been hit.

"What? Is Krys okay?" The feline asked worriedly.

"She'll live... thankfully." He mumbled under his breath. "She should be back on the Great Fox right now, which is where we should be. I assume this is Katt Monroe?" He hefted the comatose feline for emphasis.

"Yeah that's her." Miyu nodded with a sigh, relieved to hear that Krystal was alright. "Didn't have to frighten the poor girl, did ya?"

"I did what had to be done. It's not my fault she has a weak constitution."

 

"I don't know. Wasn't that maybe a little... excessive?"

"No."

 

"Whelp, I'm not one to argue the point. Let's find Fay and get the hell off this ice ball. I for one am sick of this place."

"Agreed."

 

"Good..." Miyu patted the spartan's thigh plate as she took off in the general direction she believed Fay to be. "You should have no problem carrying Katt around then seeing as you are the one who knocked her out with your unnecessary sadism."

The spartan merely followed after Miyu in response, the pink form of a limp feline draped over a shoulder.


	28. Inti-mate Details

Chapter 27: Inti-mate Details

 

Fox could hear the indistinct murmur of conversation as he entered the infirmary, the vulpine stopping just in the mouth of the doorway with the barest traces of a smile forming on his lips as he watched the members of his team in unobserved silence. While the last mission went off to join the ever growing list of increasingly stressful assignments, he was heartened to see that his crew remained unwavering in their commitment to each other.

Though Krystal was still confined to a bed in the Great Fox's sickbay, several days after the events on Fichina, this had not stopped Six from keeping true to his ever vigilant nature, turning the infirmary into his provisional living quarters. Unnecessary as it may have seemed to anyone other than the spartan, or people who did not know him, Six had taken up his duty as unwavering sentinel with utter dedication. Two days, and Fox had yet to see the spartan take a moment to rest.

Whenever she was not awake and speaking with him, the spartan kept himself occupied with his weapons, having created a makeshift workbench out of a medical trolley and a chair he pulled next to her bed. Sometimes, when Fox checked the infirmary's cameras from the bridge he was able to catch Six endlessly pacing the length of the ward while Krystal slept, his agitation transparent even from the video feed. The spartan was quite successful at keeping his considerations private, yet it was clear to Fox in those cloistered moments that he remained disturbed over the most recent events to transpire.

On a lighter note, the vixen had another frequent guest to keep her company in the form of Miyu. The lynx made it a habit to spend at least a few hours a day keeping her occupied. When questioned by Fox, the feline claimed rather defensively that she "made for better company."

But that was just a smoke screen, and a pretty poor one at that. Fox knew that Miyu was just worried about her friend. Despite their shared rivalry over the spartan, it was plain to the vulpine that they still deeply cared about each other.

This was even more apparent as he watched from the distance of the infirmary's door.

"You know that book's ending was utter trash." Miyu forewarned her cobalt furred companion from the hospital bed adjacent. Though uninjured, she adamantly made us of the comfort it provided.

In response, the vixen lowered Fortuna Desires to aim a particularly pointed glare in the feline's direction, emerald irises brimming with disapproval past the lenses of her reading glasses. "I've been trying to finish this novel for months, and I only have a few chapters left. If you ruin this for me I will tear out your spine."

".....Okay message received. No spoilers." Miyu studiously busied herself with an app game on her comms device.

"I tend to agree with Miyu's assessment of the manuscript." Six interjected offhandedly from his position beside the vixen's bed, where the spartan was currently embroiled in a fierce match of chess with Peppy that they had started that very morning but had yet to end even as the afternoon passed by.

"Wait you do?" The feline paused for a moment, her brain taking a few extra seconds to boot up and understand what the spartan had just confessed. "Wait..... you do?" Both Miyu and now a flabbergasted vixen turned their muzzles towards the spartan as he maneuvered a piece on the board.

Even from his outside position, Fox was taken aback.

"Check."

"But not checkmate, the game isn't over yet." The wizened hare cautioned with a rather mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"No battle is ever over until the last enemy falls." Six's answering rebuttal was delivered with the human supersoldier's usual courteous yet confident tone.

"Whoa there, time out. Don't just go back to your game, not without answering some questions that I think need to be addressed." Miyu shifted to an upright position on the hospital bed to give this recent development her full attention.

"Six..." Krystal watched the spartan curiously. "You read my book?"

Placing down his next porcelain figure, he turned to give the vixen his full attention. "I had noticed that you have been reading that novel for some time, so I was curious. That being said, it was disappointing. The author had clearly never spent any meaningful length of time in the military, as was made clear by the incorrect terminology and utterly misinterpreted protocols. Not only that, but the descriptions of combat were preposterous, nothing more than one person's deluded romanticization of warfare."

 

"What about chapter 32?" That was what she was most curious about. That section was a predominantly... intimate scene for the newlywed couple.

Six quickly recalled the chapter in question with his eidetic memory.

"It was... unusual. You cornerians have a strange fascination with procreation. I had no idea there were so many different ways and preferences for breeding." He studied the vixen inquisitively, while somehow managing to look innocent and unperturbed.

The furious blush marring the ruff of Krystal's cheeks was neither, reflected on both Miyu and even Peppy to a lesser extent at the spartan's rather blunt observation.

Fox could have stepped in to help them save face, but this was far too hilarious for him to even consider interfering with what was without a doubt the best entertainment he'd had in a long time.

"Yes... well... that's because... well it..." Krystal stuttered weakly, her reply coming off more as incoherent babbling then a statement. The vixen glanced to Miyu desperately, hoping for some assistance in this awkward conversation. But the feline proved to be just as clueless as to how to broach the issue.

"Checkmate." Six suddenly announced, the spartan maneuvering his queen in front of Peppy's trapped king, having eliminated the hare's entire set before going in for the killing blow.

The room sighed collectively in relief as it seemed the spartan abandoned the topic.

But Fox knew his friend better than that. The human was far too perceptive to switch topics on a whim. Whatever it was he had in mind for that inquiry, he had gathered all the information he needed.

"Yes it does appear that you have bested me yet again." The hare acknowledged his defeat with a respectful, and relieved, nod as he hurriedly gathered the pieces and began placing them inside the lacquered wooden container he had arrived with.

Sighing in disappointment that the show was over, Fox finally decided to make his presence known, foregoing his usual introduction in favor of merely stepping into sight.

As expected, Six was the first to react, though he already knew by now that the spartan had no doubt been aware of him before he even entered the room. The human acknowledged his presence with a respectful downwards tilt of his head, even as the others finally realized he was inside.

The vulpine underwent the usual greeting ritual with his crew. Bidding goodbye to Peppy as he departed the ward for his own room as Fox suspected, leaving himself, the spartan and two women.

In truth, he had come down here with the intention of conversing with Six privately in regards to the most recent development concerning what Katt had managed to steal from the Remnant, but decided to make more use of his time before heading back his room to finish compiling his report. They could talk about it later, when the spartan was once more comfortable with leaving Krystal to her own devices.

Katt was resting in her room, and had been since Six brought her onboard. Other than a minor diagnosis of malnutrition by MAD - which could easily be attributed to a lack of food and would be easily corrected by a few good meals and some rest, she was otherwise alright. It was instances like this that Fox began to really believe the old myths about feline luck.

Fox had not been all that surprised to learn that she fainted, all things considered. From Miyu's rather descriptive report, the spartan had distinctly acted out of character in the way he handled Krystal's attacker. Not that he would blame him. Fox would have done the same if not worse, if their situation had been reversed and Fara had been the one to be harmed... No. He was just merely surprised to hear such a well composed individual suffer such an utter lack of control, or at least in comparison to his usual repertoire of stoic dispositions.

He would have talked with Six about it, but one look at the spartan's forbidding expression once he removed his helmet was enough to convince him to let sleeping dogs lie. It was a matter he believed best left to the vixen to handle. Fox had experienced more than enough guilt to recognize the look, even in an alien's face. He had a feeling that Krystal would know what to say, whereas Fox was certain he would just be putting his foot in his own mouth, what he considered to be one of his less marketable skills.

Though he was speaking with Miyu and Krystal, Fox studied Six closely, deciding that while he may not be directly confronting him, he could at least keep an eye on his friend. The vulpine took in the spartan's silent posture, one he had maintained for the last few days. After bearing witness to the subtle, lengthy and drawn-out changes the spartan had undergone these past few months, it was easy for Fox to notice when these instances... regressed, for a lack of a better term.

Sure, Six was still relatively talkative and forthcoming in comparison to the machine-like warrior he had first hired on, but Fox could see that the spartan had lost some of that sense of self after Fichina.

He still remembered watching Six step of the shuttle's ramp, insensate pink feline indifferently draped over a shoulder, armor splattered in frozen gore, and the powerful undercurrent of anger radiating off him in a nearly visible miasma of rage. It was a sight that rekindled a fear that Fox had not felt since that moment on the Venomian battlecruiser.

Something in his friend had changed... relapsed, and it was not for the better.

Even now the vulpine could see the distant look in the spartan's eyes, and it was not hard to tell that he was reliving that one nightmarish moment even now, over and over again in a self-induced flagellation.

Such intimate knowledge might have brushed past every member of the team other than those currently in the room with him, those select few that had come close enough to the human to linger on the cusp of understanding what it was like to be him.

Fox could tell in that moment that their current, lighthearted conversation was forced, their cheerful banter merely providing a thinly veiled diversion to the true issue at hand, nothing but a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

It was as clear as day, reflected by every eye in the room, every nervous tick of an idle paw, every lackadaisical chuckle.

The soldier was in pain.

Yet still they ignored it. There was no other choice.

A few comforting words and pat on the back wouldn't work here, not with Six. He could not be comforted like any other person, he was... different... unique. There was a certain way, and certain people, that could reach him, even as far gone as he was. And the vulpine was not one of them.

Fox only had the heart to stay for a few more minutes before he had to leave, unable to bear the helpless feeling in his gut.

"Alright Six, I'll see ya later." He forced a casual smirk to the fore as he patted the spartan's arm and headed towards the door. Waiving a paw in front of the scanner he looked back one last time at Krystal, seeing the repressed anguish in her eyes as she looked to the spartan sitting beside her, the human warrior utterly embroiled in his inner thoughts and the broken down weapon before him.

Miyu had long ago done away with the distraction on her wrist, merely watching on from the her seemingly relaxed position in the bed across, though the flittering tail hanging off the side of the cot betrayed her otherwise outwardly unconcerned demeanor.

"Hang in there Krys, and get well."

The vixen merely nodded in reply, her paw resting on the spartan's forearm the last sight Fox saw before he stepped out into the hall, for once grateful for the fact hours of work laid in front of him.

 

*****

 

Six had come to realize something after returning from the mission.

There were still a great deal many things he had yet to experience, for example a new sense and appreciation of guilt had manifested in a variety of shapes and forms, each uniquely powerful and crushing in their own respects.

The fall of Reach, the loss of Nobel, even the massacre on Cyrus IV, the day he had truly realized that he deserved the fate that awaited him, each of those moments leveraged remorse upon his shoulders as he wondered... Could he have done things differently?

The answer was that he wasn't sure if there could have been any other way.

And if there had been... would he have taken it if there was even a slim chance he would have never come here? A part of him, a fairly large portion, found that he would do it all again, every dubious assassination, every illicit kill. He would do it all again without hesitation if it meant that he would have her.

Six had come to realize something after returning from the mission.

The spartan could never change what years of war had made him. And perhaps what troubled him the most....

He did not wish to change.

He was who he was because of war, the spartan program. He was able to be the soldier... the hero, Krystal needed him to be, because ONI had trained him to be their weapon. Fundamentally, at his core he might be broken, but that was a small price to pay if it meant he could protect her.

If he could protect them all.

Starfox was his team, his... family. He realized the truth at the very moment Krystal was shot. They were all he had and certainly more than anything he had ever had before, even Noble. His previous team had been the only people he had ever allowed himself to grow close to. Yet even then they were not as close as he found himself feeling towards the members of Starfox.

And he failed them, failed her.

He had not kept her safe, had not done what he had promised so long ago. What manner of man could he be if he could not keep his promise to the one he cared for more than anything else in existence?

He had no answer for that.

Six could see the truth, every time he looked in her eyes.

The disappointment, the distrust... it was as obvious as it was disheartening. She undoubtedly lost her faith in him after his most recent failure. No manner of distraction was enough to dull the ache in his heart at this undeniable certainty.

Six had come to realize something after returning from the mission.

He could never be the man she deserved. The day would come where her care and affection would fade, where she would find the one worthy of what she needed and leave him in the dark. And when that day arrives, he would well and truly die, in soul if not in body.

But till that day comes, he would continue to protect her, to uphold the mantle till one more suited could take his place.

It was after all, what he had been made for, what the spartan-III's had been created to achieve. They were merely cannon fodder, soldiers designed to fight and die till their betters could take their place.

Such was a feeling he was used to... expendability.

 

*****

 

"Thank you, Six."

Krystal expressed her gratitude to the spartan as he helped her into the wheeled chair beside her bed. The vixen also thanked the spirits that this would not be a permanent situation. The nerve damage to her lower spine was minor and easily treated, but would take time for it to fully heal, a few weeks at the most. Honestly, it was in actuality a rather negligible consequence for the type and severity of the wound she suffered.

MAD had informed her that if not for Six's quick reaction and issuance of battlefield medicine, she might have lost the use of her legs forever. For that she would always be indebted to him, he had quite literally saved her life, or at the very least her independence.

And yet....

She swiveled her chair to study the spartan's impassive expression as he stood beside her, arms clasped firmly behind his back in the strictest form of military posture.

Something inside him was hurting.

As she had feared, he had not come back from that mission intact. His body was undamaged, but that had nothing to say about his soul. Though it had been a few days she had yet to broach the subject of what happened down on Fichina, not knowing how to confront him on his changes.

"Can you take me to our room?" The vixen asked him with a softness of tone she hoped would offer some comfort to him.

The spartan responded with a professional, stoic nod of his head and stepped behind her, his hands wrapping firmly on the handles of her chair as he guided her out of the infirmary.

The vixen desperately wished to have Miyu with her at that moment, knowing the feline would assuredly have a means of at least getting him to speak. But for the moment he remained mute as he silently steered her down the empty halls of the ship. In moments like these she was fully able to appreciate the oddity of such a small crew operating a massive vessel like this.

Fox had spoken a few times of hiring on some help, and not necessarily combatants. Even a few extra hands to help keep the ship running and take some pressure of Slip and Peppy would be more than enough. Perhaps then Six might have some more free time to spend with her.

Krystal already wished with fiery desperation that the use of her legs could return to her faster so she could envelope Six in the most comforting embrace she could devise. But she was helpless to merely sit and wait, her mind running though her legs were unable, as she pondered on a way to help him.

It was clear that this newfound wave of apathy emanating from Six was starkly in response to the events on Fichina. She could feel within him the crushing guilt and sense of incompetence. If only he knew the truth of how she felt.

He had nothing to feel guilty about, in fact he had effectively saved her life. She would have told him this in an instant if she didn't already know that it would not work as well as intended, merely coming of consolatory instead of uplifting.

No, he needed something else more straightforward, something that would quickly cast away all doubt as to how she felt about him.

Try as she might, no immediate solution came to mind as she was steered down the hallways by her dearest companion. The elevator ride up to the crew quarters was similarly bereft of useful musing. Instead there was a silence between them as they arrived at their room, and the vixen watched mutely as her spartan opened their door and rolled her inside.

"Do you need to rest?" So quiet he had been, Krystal was momentarily startled at the sound of Six's voice, the spartan looking down upon her in patient wait for an answer, given all the appearance of a diligent butler supervising his charge.

"No, I'm fine. "I've been resting for the past few days, I think if anything I'd like to hit the shower." Bedridden as she had been, the opportunity to wash out the unpleasant, unwashed scent in her fur had been unavailable until now. It was a wonder that Six had yet to say anything about the odor, though she was confident that had more to do with his respect for her than anything else.

Yet the vixen frowned in her deeper considerations. Such a simple feat as even washing herself would be difficult given her current disability. She doubted she'd be able to accomplish such a task on her own, at least as inexperienced as she currently was.

She would have asked Miyu to help her, but the indignity of such a situation would render that as her absolute last option. However, there was one other person she could rely on, someone she would not at all be opposed with.

Krystal focused on the spartan. "Six... could you... help me?"

"What do you need?" The human inquired, utterly oblivious.

The vixen's cheeks burned hotly and she could hear her own heart beat a rapid staccato in her chest at the propensity of what she asked for. "What I mean to say is... could you help me... bathe?" Krystal wished that she had something that could hide the uncertainty and embarrassment on her muzzle.

She watched nervously as the spartan remained mute and stationary for several tense minutes, completely unreadable past that damnable helmet. This soon turned her embarrassment into indignation.

Curse him! Didn't he know how awkward it made her feel to ask him so boldly? Did he understand how much courage she had to summon forth just to consider entreating this of him? And to just sit there like a brick, not responding to such a difficult request... Krystal was about ready to scream.

Yet every sliver of her irritation vanished entirely the moment he shifted into motion. Like the lumbering gears of a great machine, she watched the spartan's gauntlets slowly eek their way upwards to rest upon the all-encompassing slab of alien alloy that covered his visage. Armored hands driven by deliberate intent disconnected the seals of the azure helm and ever so gradually lifted it away to rest upon the desk behind the human with the muted thump of steel upon steel.

Crimson irises speckled with dull sapphire observed the vixen beneath them with hypnotic force, their stoicism echoed within the expression they were attached to as Krystal froze under the concentrated scrutiny of the one she cherished so dearly.

Then the gauntlets moved once more, latching firmly upon the imposing bulwark of steel that had been fashioned into the spartan's breastplate.

Then it finally dawned on her as she realized the spartan was shedding his armor. To anyone else, his actions would have been misconstrued as strange or bewildering, but Krystal only smiled softly as she understood the meaning behind his efforts, a faint tingle of unknown emotion sparking within her as she watched the process with rapt attention... which was all she could really do currently confined to a wheelchair as she was.

This was his way of saying yes.

 

*****

 

 

In this iteration, it only took the spartan a mere half hour to remove the trappings of his armor and stash it away in the corner of the room. After having been long separated from the UNSC he had grown used to completing the process on his own. What was once a commonplace procedure was now... cathartic. By way of detaching his firmaments of war, so too did he remove himself from the mentality of it.

As he looked down upon the vixen that inspired his utter devotion and all that she now asked of him, Six realized one last truth from the events preceding their last mission.

He loved her, without exception or reservation.

And he would take that to his grave.

But until such a day comes where he would offer his life to the altar of war, he would live in this moment and ones like it. The quite between conflicts, the time cherished with friends and lover, this is where he would allow himself to be more than what his masters had made him. ONI had sought to kill within him that which made him human, his capabilities for compassion, kindness... love. Six had once thought he all but lost such sentiments, that they had succeeded in stripping the spartan of all that separated him from men and monsters.

And perhaps they had, but Krystal had returned these to him, had shown Six that no matter what those in his past had done to him, they could never take that away from him.

He may not have been, and probably never would be, the one she deserved, but Six would not let that keep him from being what she needed him to be, and if that path lay as her hero, lover, or perhaps even both, it would be one the spartan would gladly tread upon.

Although in the moment he was leaning towards one more than the other. Unlike guilt, this sensation was one he had yet to fully feel or recognize. He was tense, nervous, his thoughts so scattered he found it difficult to piece them together or focus on the present. His movement was erratic, disjointed... deprived of the usual meticulousness that had become second nature to him.

It was Krystal that forced him to experience these uninvited symptoms, or rather... the look in her eyes. Six had catalogued a wide variety of emotions that her unnaturally expressive verdant stare could emulate. This iteration, while similar to the one she shared with him in their more private moments, was somewhat unalike.

There was... something, she wanted from him this time.

That was not to say he was entirely oblivious. Naivety was one such thing he had quickly lost in his days working for the office. He had just never thought anyone would ever remotely feel like that towards a man like him. The spartan was honestly surprised that she desired him in such a way, one that transcended their current position with one another.

Though he felt uncertainty in these preceding moments as he lifted the silent vixen in his arms and carried the provisionally immobilized woman towards their lavatory, he decided, for more her benefit then his own, to see this through to the end.

Not long ago he promised her he would not back down from any challenge, and he had no wish to do so now, even with what would without reservation be the most testing.

Six stepped inside the restroom and set the vixen down upon the counter as he glanced about the area. Like most accommodations aboard the Great Fox, the bathroom was exceptionally lavish in comparison to the kinds he was used to seeing amongst the UNSC fleet. Where he had been lucky to find a shower with a five-by-five perimeter in the wash rooms he was used to, the facilities on this vessel easily afforded him nearly three times that number, and to an enhanced individual like himself, that was one of the very few needless amenities that he enjoyed. It was as if it had been designed with more than one occupant in mind, which was probably correct in all likelihood. These cornerians were after all quite strange creatures.

With his examination concluded he turned back to Krystal, neither yet speaking a word. Six supposed it would be natural and expected of either one of them to say something to break the tension so obviously layering the air, perhaps inject some levity into their immediate surroundings to ease them into it.

Unsurprisingly neither had yet to attempt such a thing. This current situation was entirely beyond him and so he had been hoping that she would be able to take the lead.

She did not.

Instead the vixen seemed content to match his gaze with a nervous smile, the ruff on her cheeks warm and bright pink in the deafening silence, something the spartan considered to be a biological impossibility. But he had come to realize that logic did not seem to hold sway over these aliens.

Yet all the same he felt the maudlin musings of the past few days fading away under that endearing, awkward grin, as if they had never existed at all. This was not a surprising phenomenon to Six. Krystal had always been able to banish his darker side. That was in fact one of the reasons he cared so much for as he did.

Despite himself the spartan felt the onset of a matching expression begin to pull on his own stern countenance, shattering any solemn pretense he might have been trying to maintain. She was just so... adorable. Though if anyone were to ever hear him say such a thing or insinuate in any measure that he felt such sentiment, they would be skinned alive and hung on a tree by their Achilles tendon, which was not entirely out of his realm of abilities. That tactic had worked quite well during his dealings with the insurrection.

Realizing his sense of stoicism had been firmly shattered by the vixen's seemingly inherent charm, the spartan chuckled, a light and warm sound he had never once before released in the life he once had lived, just one other gift from her he was thankful for.

"I believe that words might be necessary at this point."

 

In response Krystal giggled, a sound that would never, not fill the human warrior's heart with soothing warmth.

"Yes I suppose you might be right." She agreed with a whimsical flick of her tail.

"I have... never done something like this before." Six confessed uneasily, finding it difficult to match her intrusive, yet playful stare.

"Well then that makes two of us. Neither have I." She replied, a somewhat capricious glint in her eyes.

Six had to abstain from a scoff but settled instead with a roll of his eyes as he turned away from her to fiddle with the shower's seemingly unnecessarily complicated knobs. Why they needed so many buttons and levers for what should be a simple machine baffled him utterly. There were more devices on this thing than in the cockpit of his sabre.

Eventually, he was able to change the now streaming cascade of water to a more agreeable temperature. As he turned back to her, his eyes widened for a brief moment before settling unwaveringly upon her narrow muzzle and nowhere else lower.

It seemed as if she had acted preemptively.

"A little help... please." Unlike her previous confidence, the tone she now used to address him was timid... self-conscious.

In his awkwardness, Six realized what she was asking and approached her with an apprehension he had never before felt in all his life. His heart resounded from within his chest like the thunderous staccato of rifle fire and the muscles in his abdomen were tightly bound like coiled serpents. Yet still he had the force of will to mask his unease as he lowered his hands to her waist, making certain that he kept his gaze locked firmly on her emerald irises and nowhere else.

This was different from the situation with Miyu, such had been a strictly necessary application of battlefield first-aid and had extended no farther than that. Furthermore, back then it had been easy to remain objective, disassociated. Now, with his newfound knowledge and experience, it was not so relaxed. 

The low rattle of an unclasped buckle filled the dead air, piercing in its solitary nature as he helped the vixen out of her pants. The soft patter of denim sliding to the floor was nearly as deafening as a mortar shell in the confines of the bathroom, leaving Six as the only one of the pair that still clung to decency.

There was an awkward pause as her last article of clothing joined the pile by her feet, the spartan still making sure to keep his eyes trained on hers, unwilling to look anywhere else. He was troubled by what he might feel if he did otherwise, what such a sight might trigger inside him.

If he was to be honest with himself, he had been feeling urges most unusual as of late. The process itself had been slow, near undetectable at first, originating from the first moment he had realized just what it felt like to have a woman that cared for him, and what she might expect from him.

He had come to first understand this in full the moment he realized he enjoyed holding her, the simple act of having the vixen in his arms, to feel another's heartbeat against his own, to no longer sleep alone.

It almost made him feel... human.

The timing however, left much to be desired.

Reluctant with what was to come next, Six hesitantly sought to his undersuit, pulling at the seal around his neck. Though his reservations regarding these events were still quite clear and present in his thoughts, Six pressed on with the dogged determination that had been so thoroughly bred into him. No matter how disconcerting this was, he would not shy away from her. They had been through too much. She had been through too much. He was tired of the responsibility he carried in her sadness and misfortune.

He would do this, make this one concession... for her, if only to see that smile he cherished so much.

The act of undressing with others was not unfamiliar to the spartan. The camp where he had been trained was military in every sense of the word. Nearly everything was communal. No. what unsettled him was his proximity with the vixen and the inherently informal nature of this experience.

That being so, Six struggled mightily to mask his tumultuous emotions as he once more lifted the unclothed vixen into his arms.

Even though they shared a bed together, one where they both often wore a nominal quantity of clothing, this situation was nearly across the spectrum, strange given the near illusory difference between the minimalistic nature of nightwear and its closeness to nudity.

Fur, with the consistency and pliability of down, fluttered softly against his naked skin. And the spartan warred internally to prevent any adverse reaction. He had never before experienced such a profound sensation of vulnerability as that moment when she wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed deeply into his eyes, so close as to make it an impossibility to turn away.

Insecurity was a new sensation he was becoming swiftly familiar with. There was no escape from that viridian gaze. The awkward uncertainty had yet to leave her muzzle, but that did nothing to stop her intense stare.

It was that same smile that had yet to waiver which proved to be the action necessary to lower his guard just that much further. To the point where he even found his smile returning as well. After all, he trusted Krystal with not only his life, but his soul. There was nothing that he would not do for her, and if she so desired moments like this... and perhaps even more. He would find it within himself to endure.

"See? Not so bad is it?" She inquired with a certain look to her muzzle that was not entirely like the one before, something new he had yet to perceive and classify. Nonetheless, he liked it. There was something... special, about that look, something... warm... heartfelt. Private, was an adjective he would use willingly, something meant for just the two of them.

"No. It's not." He agreed, partially confused to find that it was in fact, not so bad. In all honesty he had expected an entirely different feeling from all this, or perhaps no feeling at all. He was pleasantly surprised that was no true. He in fact enjoyed holding her like this, the closeness, the immediacy of their connection with one another.

He would not deny either that a different part of him also found satisfaction in this development. Six had yet to identify this newfound perception within him, to ascertain and confront what had been lethargically seething deep within him for as long as he had felt the way he did about Krystal, only that it set his blood afire with something that was not rage, an entirely new experience for him.

Only one other moment had spoken to him as strongly as this, back when she had first expressed her interest in him. Everything about her in this moment appealed to him, the scent of her fur and its texture against his bare flesh; regardless of the mildly unpleasant scent she no doubt wished washed clean, the way her eyes seemed to twinkle with warmth and compassion, the tail so innocuously coiled around his leg.

A lingering but no less profound silence loitered between them, the vixen content in prolonging this closeness that she had strived so hard to achieve and finally had grasped, the spartan still processing the sudden influx of strange emotions and signals his body struggled greatly to relay to him though a lifetime of browbeaten conditioning.

After a few moments, Six came to a decision.

"I am... not opposed to this."

 

This was it he realized.

This is what he had been unintentionally searching for his entire life. This is what it felt like to live.

This is what it felt like to be loved, the closest one could be to attaining what he perceived to be the meaning of existence.

Warmth unlike anything he could possibly hope to understand welled up deep inside him, emerging in places he had never thought possible, the deepest elements of his core alight with a soothing heat that did not directly correlate with the water washing over them. An ache so intense he doubted its own veracity.

"That you could possibly care for a man such as I... is a mystery."

 

"No, not care." Krystal answered with a low rumble that reverberated within her throat. The vixen clung fiercely to him, resting her muzzle on his shoulder as she held tight to that which kept her anchored so firmly to a world she once thought dour and inhospitable, two sentiments that could have - at one point in time - been used to describe the very male she grasped so dearly.

"Love."

 

*****

 

It was in that treasured time he spent in the bathroom with Krystal, a strange place to hold close to one's heart, those precious moments where Six allowed himself to feel something he had once forced himself to be rid of, that the spartan was once more able to stave off that lingering entity of desperation that hung over his shoulders. It was the vixen's presence that banished away his doubts and insecurities, and the love she expressed to the spartan that kept him whole.

Perhaps the vixen need not find someone to replace him. Perhaps he was indeed that which she desired. He could not tell, for no one had ever desired him before.

He only knew that he would continue to serve her with dedication and faith, the individualistic way he knew how to live.

Though she had expressed to him her loathing of sleep, it was clear after he assisted the vixen in her embarrassed efforts to clothe herself, that she remained exhausted and weak from her injuries. It was under his guidance that she once more fell to slumber, and that he stood vigil over her rest.

He himself had little need to seek out that which she required. While it had been ongoing five days since he last felt true slumber, it did not call to him. She was safe, she was with him, yet he still could not find the peace of sleep. Images of those moments on Fichina haunted him, and would continue to do so for a long time to come.

His only real reconciliation came in the act of watching her as she lay curled under the sheets of their bed. The visible sight of the vixen reaffirming in his mind that she had not been lost to him in that artic expanse. He knew the depth of his attachment to Krystal was not healthy, that it might borderline an unnatural level of obsession. But he knew no other way of life. His obsessions was what gave him his strength, the determination that had conquered warzones and stalled even the march of the mighty Covenant on several occasions. He had been fixated on his goals of human preservation, and those goals had transferred in his need to preserve these most recent individuals under his care, one admittedly set upon a pedestal higher than the rest.

Even now he could feel that same possessiveness include the pink feline, someone he had at most, spoken a handful of words to and had not even seen since he placed her in Fox's care. And yet, the vulpine informed him that she was a part of this team, this... family. Now that the mission was over, he found value in her existence, now that she was here; she would find herself included in his overarching protection.

Undeniably it was strange, his yearning to protect others. Nevertheless it was one of his very few redeeming qualities, or at least he considered to be so. He would die for any one of them in a heartbeat; such was the depth of his loyalty. Their lives were and always would be of greater importance and value than that of a broken, washed up soldier of a race that did not seem to exist.

Before Krystal, protecting humanity had been his purpose, his only reason for existence; such could not be stated enough. While a noble pursuit, his origins and occupation was anything but, yet it was all he had. Now, he had many things he previously had never even dreamed of.

Fox and his crew, a family unlike anything he could have ever believed or hoped for. Krystal... Miyu, two women that insisted to stand by him, to give him both direction and purpose, two things he struggled to find not only here, but in the life before. He had a home, a real place to truly call his own, both on the Great Fox and the lodge on a world he had once thought of as Reach, yet found such a remembrance fade under its new moniker. The spartan possessed worldly goods, clothes, weapons, ammunition, even a half built project in the words of his new home, things that would all but be impossible in the world he originated from. Those things belonged to him and no one else, not humanity, not ONI, and certainly not Colonel Ackerson.

Every decision, every choice, every movement he made was of his own volition. Here he could really be his own man, what Jorge had wished he would aspire to be, he became.

Would the spartan-II be proud of his fellow soldier's achievements? 

Had he at last attained that which Jorge spoke so fondly of?

A small, infinitesimal part of Six, did not care what the answer to those questions might be. He knew what he had, and the opinion of a dead man would not impart any more meaning upon his accomplishments.

He did not have to fear his past, not anymore.

A sigh escaped Six's lips as he finally relented to a quandary he had debated upon for what seemed like an eon, but was in actuality an internal struggle many years in the making. There was no more purpose in upholding needless pretense, he need not fear anymore that emotion was a sign of weakness that must be purged. He did not have to live a fictitious life, denying himself the right to feel as any man deserved to. The spartan no longer found it necessary to hide his humanity underneath the guise of an unfeeling machine that existed for no other reason than conflict and the pursuit of it.

In truth he was tired, though the source was more psychological than physical. He was tired of maintaining a façade, of pretending to be something he might have been but no longer was, to conform to a standard that at one point might have been mandatory, but now was rendered obsolete.

If he wished to express himself, what right did anyone have to judge him for it? His tears had not been a sign of weakness. They were an expression of the depth of his affection towards a woman he cared more for than life itself. If he could not cry, then he truly would be a monster.

Even now he tortured himself with pointless stoicism, why conjure the futile delusion that he did not wish to lay down beside the sleeping form of his... beloved? This was a designation he was only now just coming to accept, including all the doubts and elations that came with it. In his heart he knew that was what he wanted, to own that which all people, all humans, yearned for, yet a part of him still tried to preserve the notion that he had no need for such inane desires.

He feared it was a piece of him that would never truly die.

For now however, he beat back such petty considerations and moved from his seat, silken sheets caressing his skin as the spartan slipped into the bed beside Krystal. Tucking an arm under her waist and threading the other through the vixen's own furred appendage, he drew the female fox close to his chest, resting his chin against the slender form of her furred shoulder and breathing deep in guilty pleasure, the scent of strawberry shampoo in the sapphire tresses of her hair.

The vixen murmured softly in her slumber, unconsciously coiling the white peaked cobalt plume of a tail around his waist in content.

Six allowed himself the barest trace of a truly happy smile to conform to the otherwise harsh and unfeeling landscape of his scarred countenance.

This... this was all that he would ever desire, the culmination of all his wants and needs founded in the simplest pleasure of holding Krystal close to his heart, one of the very few individuals in all of existence he would ever make room for in a place he thought long since abandoned.

Soon, he found that which had alluded him since the moment they touched down on the inhospitable ice world where he first laid his heart bare, both occupants of the bedroom finding peace and solace in the warmth of their dreams, what would be the first and the most pleasant reveries of Six's life.

 

********

 

Miyu shifted her attention away from the television and its recorded program to cast her gaze across the common room, watching as a groggy feline swathed in pink fur stumbled her way towards the nearest couch. Black lips curled in faint amusement as the lynx took in the rather delirious expression on her fellow cat's muzzle.

"Near on three days and you finally wake up? I've had my fair share of cat naps, but I gotta say I'm kinda jealous."

A muttered half-growl was the female's response as Katt took a few moments to compose herself.

"You see how you feel after being cooped up in an icebox for two weeks." Katt's retort was fierce but in a joking manner, and Miyu found herself chuckling alongside her fellow feline.

"I'd have to say no to that, at least till my winter coat came in."

Not bothering to answer that with another quip, Katt sunk further into the sofa and wrapped herself up in a heavy blanket, muttering about how she was "still cold."

The rosy hued feline was silent for a few minutes after that, though she did not wait long before opening her mouth to bring voice to something that had been bothering her the second she regained consciousness. "So... that big ass robot...." She left her inquiry open-ended as she looked towards Miyu expectantly.

The Lynx nodded, unsurprised at the question. "Yep... that was Six."

Katt mimicked her nod, somewhat dazedly. "Well... I can certainly see why Fox hired him. I've seen tanks that were smaller."

Miyu smiled. "Yeah he certainly is a... unique individual."

"Unique? I think the adjective you were looking for was well-muscled? Built like a god perhaps?" Fox's newest recruit had a physique that put body builders to shame, the kind that was captured by classical artwork in museums and portrayed as ideal physical perfection. Even as brief as her look at this male was, she had easily gleaned as much. That armor of his had certainly not been designed to hide anything, rather it seemed to accentuate.

The fur on Miyu's cheeks darkened considerably. "I suppose you could put it like that."

An idea was soon to take root in Katt's mind and a mischievous glint flashed in the feline's eyes.

"So...."

"No, absolutely not." The lynx was quick to ensure there would be no misunderstanding. "He's taken, doubly so." 

A pink eyebrow was suitably raised in curiosity.

Realizing that she had just been led on to admit something gossip worthy, Miyu donned a look of utter mortification. "I... that's not to say... what I meant was." She babbled incoherently, faltering verbally for an appropriate retort.

"I'm just fooling with ya, Miyu... testing the waters so to speak." Katt mercifully explained before the lynx was forced to prattle for too long. "It's been a while since I was around the old crew so I'm making up for lost time. Though I am curious, who's the other lucky lady?"

At that Miyu allowed herself a roll of the eyes. As if it would not already be obvious.

"Really now... Krystal? Honestly I didn't think that introverted girl would ever have it in her to land a mate, especially not a stud like him. Where'd you find that guy anyways? I don't think Corneria grows em that big."

"It's a... long story." The lynx admitted with a sigh. "Suffice to say he's not really from around these parts. But that's a topic for another time, when we have a few good drinks of the alcoholic variety and more pleasant company a variety all their own.

"I can certainly agree to that, been too long since we last had a get together like that."

"What's it been? Near a year now?"

"Just about I'd reckon." Katt agreed with a far off sigh. "Just about as long as we've been apart."

"And yet you still cling to the notion that Falco is interested in you?" Miyu wondered with partial notes of disbelief and ridicule.

"No. Not anymore... at least not in that way. As a friend maybe, but not like that." Katt answered with a frown. "I've grown away from that childish desire and come to realize the fact that he doesn't really seem all that interested in intimate relationships, especially after this mission. I mean, he hasn't even bothered to see me once yet, or at least I can safely presume as such though I was unconscious for a while." A swift nod from the Lynx would confirm that suspicion. 

Miyu was actually surprised at the rather levelheaded admission from her friend, and glad as well that she had been able to shrug off her romantic attachment to Falco. "I'm impressed, Katt. You've grown."

In response the pink feline shrugged. "A year on my own may have helped me see that."

"Well if it's any consolation to you, I hope you guys remain friends. God knows you've known each other longer than I have." She didn't want Falco to suffer, merely that he get off his damn pedestal sometimes. Though she did smirk at the fact Six's arrival had suitably murdered his usual delusions of superiority.

"I do too Miyu, I do too." Katt sighed heavily, though her dour mood lasted only moments before she grinned emphatically.

"So... you and Six fuck yet?"

The echoing wheezing of Miyu choking on her own saliva reverberated through the common room for several minutes.

 

*****

 

Krystal awoke to the unfamiliar sensation of two solid weights encircling her torso, both objects smooth and warm, draped around her chest as they were. She came to recognize these intruders of her personal space as the presence of a pair of strong arms thoroughly intertwined with her upper body, and in the vixen's current sleepy condition it took a few more moments than expected for her to realize that she was not alone in her bed.

Not seconds after this recognition, her ear flicked of its own volition in a subconscious reaction to an outwards stimulus, an exceptionally localized gust of wind that could be attributed to the indistinct rumble filling the air around her. The origin of this strange occurrence emanated from the other occupant of the mattress currently residing quite intimately beside her, in the form of a soft snoring, like the gentle undercurrent of a calm ocean.

Still intellectually perplexed by the last dregs of slumber, she took an indolent paw and ran it across the arm tucked underneath her ribs, tracing a padded digit across the contours of the superbly muscled appendage that held her close to an equally herculean barrel of a chest. Furless, smooth skin, an easily discernible muscle mass... there was only one individual in the entire galaxy that could possibly exhibit all of these traits.

A small, very self-satisfied smile quickly pulled at the corners of Krystal's lips as she nestled deeper into the warmth and unusual intimacy of the spartan's unconscious embrace. She did not know the reason for his sudden affection, but was in no way bothering to question it. This was the first time since they started sleeping together in the same bed that Six allowed himself such latitude, the spartan usually hesitant to undergo prolonged physical contact with her, even when unconscious. She knew that his discomfort with physical connection was the blatant result of a lifetime devoid of even the humblest of benevolent luxuries afforded to the common soul.

That he was now not only allowing himself such leeway, but embracing it without her need to pester him, was a huge advancement in the spartan's struggles with the simplicities of life. This truth in all honesty only made the moment sweeter for her.

The vixen debated on whether or not to greet the day now, the decision however was made easy and transparent when she turned her neck and took in the serene, slumbering visage of Noble Six. In that moment, where her eyes took in his untroubled expression, the usual seemingly permeant gaunt lines induced by the accumulation of years of stress and violence faded to nonexistence, Krystal realized that she could not take this away from him, not that she would have wanted to. This was the first time since she had seen his foreign visage that he appeared... content. His face was of a man who finally found a small measure of peace, and she felt a deep warm glow in her heart at the sight of it.

Since the day she realized that she had fallen for him, the vixen's happiness was almost entirely derived of ensuring that he felt just as satisfied with his life as she was with her own. It had been a long time since she last felt so at ease and content with her place. It was the sort of youthful delight that reminded her of how young she really was. Not twenty years old and she had already forgotten what true bliss felt like.

After Cerinia's destruction, the day she lost her family and everyone she had ever known and loved in an instant, her life had lost its color. She had lived day by day, trudging through a dreary, pallid existence, driven only by her quest for vengeance. And she had lived with that burden... that pain, for so long that she had nearly forgotten what it meant to be happy, what it was like to live not just for the sake of living.

Then one day she had encountered the most frustrating, enigmatic, determined, and wonderful male she could have ever hoped to meet. He had initially been everything that she despised, violent, callous, and seemingly without a heart. But as she delved deeper, forced herself to look past the walls of apathy and rage he erected around himself, Noble Six had become everything that she loved and cherished in this world.

She still wondered how someone who outwardly held nothing but rage in his heart could care so much. Krystal had never met someone as kind and tender as Six when he let his barriers fall. His passion for duty and the unflinching sacrifices he so effortlessly underwent, not just for his own people, but for her, cemented his position in her heart as the most valuable thing in her life since the day she left the broken husk of a world she once called home.

Somehow she knew in her heart that her father and mother would be proud of her choice in a mate. He would have made for a noble and kind king, though she doubted Six would ever consider either of attributes as associated with himself. There were still some things about his past that the spartan had yet to confide in her, dark premonitions he had only vaguely hinted at. A small part of her was frightened to uncover what those could be, what exactly he had accomplished on the behest of his superiors. After their initial confrontation she had been able to piece together the type of soldier Six had been before he had found her, apathetic, detached from emotion and rigidly adherent to an unflinching resolve of restless dedication to commands.

All in all, it spelled a bad combination for an off the books operative running black operations.

But she promised herself, no matter what it was he might have carried out under the guidelines of his masters, she would not blame him. He did not deserve to carry the burden that should never have been his to bear.

But for now she would let such bleak thoughts fade in favor of her current and most pleasant company.

Krystal did not know how much time she spent locked tightly in his slumbering embrace, but she cherished every second of it. In her mind there was nothing better. She had strived for so long to have this moment with him, to attain this form of appreciation. Of all the individuals in this galaxy or any other, Six, a man not of her species, born to and molded by a life of war and misery, had seen something in her that transcended his inborn inhibitions.

In spite of everything he had suffered though, a childhood of conflict and loss, trained with only the conviction that his greatest contribution to life was to surrender his... he loved her.

She knew this, every time he shared that look with her that was offered to none other than perhaps her own closest friend, every moment he stood at her side, every time he unflinchingly threw himself in harm's way to protect her. Everything he did, he did for her. And the realization of that truth was more than she could have ever hoped to find in a lifemate.

When she woke every morning, she offered her thanks to the spirits of her ancestors for bestowing the wonderful human named Six, upon her, sometimes wondering if she deserved his tireless devotion. She had never before met someone so dedicated, so selfless, in their pursuits for another. Nor was she likely to, the character of the noble spartan had been formed in perhaps the most punishing crucible imaginable for sapient life. There was no one quite like Six, the depth of his personality was perhaps too convoluted to ever truly understand. Though she would do her best to in the many years she prayed they would have together.

For now she would take comfort in what time they had, and continue to cherish this gift as long as she was able, especially this moment. She knew not the next time she might find herself in such close connection with Six, but wanted to make the most of the present.

Unfortunately, good things were not meant to last forever, and her sharp hearing detected the subtle change in his breathing pattern that beckoned his return to the conscious world, not soon after her decision.

As the majority of her still wished to preserve this peaceful, pleasurable moment for as long as she could successfully drag it out, the vixen continued to feign sleep after his awakening, though the low rumble of contentment emanating from her chest was sure to spoil the deception.

Unsurprisingly, Six had not been deceived in the slightest.

"You're awake...."

The sound of his voice, a deep rumbling growl that was to her more enchanting than any melody that had ever graced her ears, sent a cool shiver of electricity down her spine at its immediacy, the faint push of the spartan's exhalation ruffling the fur on the back of her neck.

The vixen shook her head in childlike willfulness, unwilling to see this moment cut so short. "Please... just five more minutes." She glanced at the clock on the nearby bed stand. "Fox won't have need for us till we arrive planetside" They should still have at least five more hours before then.

Expecting a curt dismissal of her plea and the sorrowful departure of his hands around her abdomen, the vixen was surprised to hear an unusually doting chuckle, murmuring in unexpected pleasure as he reaffirmed his hold on her slender frame, ensuring that she remained tight to his chest, so close that she could hear the smooth reverberation of his beating heart.

"Of course... if that is your wish."

 

Though a small part of her wished to, the vixen did not question his sudden reevaluation of affection, far too distracted by the uncontrollable clamor of her racing heart. Thankfully the rumble of her low purring masked this from him.

"It is." Krystal affirmed vehemently, a quite giggle bubbling from her lips as she failed to successfully conceal her blissful grin.

"Then it is mine as well." Six concluded, the vixen feeling his chin brush against the side of her throat as he nodded in confirmation. "I have no immediate duties or orders from Fox today, and Slippy has offered to watch over my armaments on occasion. For once I..." The spartan paused uncertainly. "I have nothing to do."

 

A small, increasingly vocal part of Krystal's mind suggested there was something else that he could do, but her innate mortification swiftly strangled that notion before it could gather any more momentum. Her body's inclination for such a suggestion was still a powerful one, yet she succeeded as she did every other day in suppressing her instinct to... breed, to put it ineloquently. The vixen would not lie to herself and say she did not want to have sex with Six, she found that concept quite attractive. But she wanted it to be on her terms, and not that of her baser drives.

More and more often she found herself wishing that the species she had descended from did not suffer from such hardcoded bodily cravings. This cycle was particularly persistent, and her current, rather compromising position, did little help with her self-control.

Thankfully her mind wandered away from such thoughts as she considered something.

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" She asked him.

Six was silent for a few moments, and Krystal watched as he unconsciously threaded his bulky fingers through her paw. "A small part of me thinks so, and yet... what is a spartan if he is not industrious and unrelenting in his duties? What is a man if he is not prepared to sacrifice even his own freedom?"

An answer would have been given if she had not felt that he had more thoughts to unburden. Instead she merely offered his intertwined hand a comforting squeeze. Though she did not see his resulting smile, she did feel his grip tighten that much more around her.

"All my life I have sacrificed for my people, I surrendered not only my youth but my own humanity when it had been asked of me, all of this I did without restraint or hesitation. I worked tirelessly, for days, weeks, and even months on end without rest or respite. To me now, to not spend every waking moment in service to something is... difficult." Six admitted with a sigh. "Yet I know in my heart that those days are past and I will never be that man again, and I find no sorrow at that. Yet my remorse is all consuming nonetheless. Is it right, Krystal, to feel guilt for something so utterly beyond your control?"

 

As she expected his troubles were caused not by the present, but by his past. She had never known the kind of indefatigable dedication that Six had driven himself with for years, but she did know a great deal about self-loathing.

"Your guilt stems from more than your lack of busy work, Six." She cautioned sagely. "You are concerned that to find peace with this new world would be to betray all of those you believe you left behind. This is not true. To find joy in moments bereft of conflict and duty is no great evil."

The vixen shuffled until Six hesitantly loosened his grip, just enough so that she could twist her body around to meet his gaze, a rarely soulful pair of uncertain eyes visible in the dim light of the bedroom.

"You have been through great trials that few ever experience, Six. The life you have spoken of is one that no person should ever have to endure. For that I would think you deserve the right to time for yourself, more so than most."

"I..." The spartan seemed about ready to disagree, but something caused him to refrain as whatever he had been about to say was momentarily postponed. The look in his eyes was far off and contemplative, and Krystal studied him silently as he ran an idle hand through the fur on her forearm.

"Perhaps... no... you are right. But I fear that truth will do little to dissuade this unshakable notion of wrongness."

 

"Give it time, Six. The path to adjustment is not an easy one I fear. But it will get better. I promise you." She offered him a comforting grin, one that he was slow to replicate. "No matter what happens, you'll always have me."

"Yes I will, won't I?"

 

Krystal sensed that though formed as such, it was not so much as a question as a realization. His next words were both shocking and unexpected, spoken as they were with such staunch conviction and open affection.

"Thank you, Krystal."

 

No two words before had ever before incited such pleasure and delight in the vixen's heart. A warm wetness formed under the lids of her eyes and she felt the damp track of a fresh tear glide its way down her cheek.

"You are always there when I need you, with just the right words that need to be said." The spartan brought up a hand and wiped away the solitary tear with a calloused thumb.

 

On instinct, the vixen wrapped her paws around his outspread arm and brought it up to her muzzle, planting a soft kiss on top of his thumb, discerning the indistinct salty tang of his flesh as she ran her tongue across her lips.

"And I'll continue to be there for as long as you'll have me." She whispered huskily, afraid that if she spoke any louder that her voice would fail her. 

There was more Six wanted to say but he held himself back, afraid of what might be vocalized. He did not know what he might have said, only that it would open a path he was not quite yet ready to follow. He needed some more time to think before he committed fully to what he expected would be a new experience all together. Till such a moment, he would allow himself a little more personal discretion.

Uncertain but confident in his movement, Six cupped Krystal's lower jaw in the palm of his hand. The vixen offered no resistance as he gently brought her muzzle to his lips, sealing them together with a slight measure of force. It lasted for at most a few seconds, but felt to him like an age.

His enhanced sensory capabilities documented and categorized every sensation he felt in that short kiss, the short fur around her jaws, something that would have repulsed him not so long ago, the whiskers that so softly danced across the skin on his cheeks and the cool moisture of her wetted lips.

With slowness and perhaps a small part of reluctance, Six pulled away from her lips, watching as the somewhat insensate vixen sluggishly opened her eyes, a glint of fire radiating in that emerald intelligence that indicated an unspoken and perhaps not entirely unknown desire.

Six was almost completely certain he knew what that smoldering gaze intended. But there was more research he needed before he trod down that path. 

Patiently, he waited till the gleam in her viridian irises abated and rationality had once more returned to her senses before speaking.

"I think that Fox could stand to wait a little longer before he needs us." For once he would allow himself to embrace this closeness that Krystal so fervently wished for. Six could not tell when it was he last felt so content.

In that moment her eyes were all that mattered to him.


	29. Fame, Fortune, and Futility Part 1

Chapter 28: Fame, Fortune, and Futility Part 1

 

Falco peered into the hallway from the concealment of his bedroom, stepping into the corridor the moment he was certain that he was alone, the avian's beak glancing both ways before he was content enough to pick a direction. Taking care to reduce the echo of his footsteps and repeatedly checking corners and hallways, Falco made a slow, but determined effort to reach the Great Fox's arsenal undetected.

With one last careful glance to his surroundings, the avian silently slipped into his sanctuary. The bird leaned against the closest wall and sighed in content at the familiar and welcomed backdrop, plucking a comb from his coat pocket to hastily stylize the mane of feathers atop his head.

Looks like I made it. He thought with a smug grin.

Falco was rather proud that his proficiency for quite moving was just as good as the old days, back when he had been just another street urchin roaming the streets of Velspad, the capital of Macbeth, his homeworld.

"What... are you doing?"

 

Falco froze at the perplexed voice, turning his head to see the rather bewildered expression on the other occupant at the far end of the rather large chamber.

"Oh hey Six, didn't see you there." The bird answered quickly, a momentary flash of embarrassment causing Falco to rub the back of his head in awkward discomfort as he straightened his back, the prideful puffing of his chest deflating somewhat. Though his efforts at going unnoticed were now compromised, of all the people he had thought to encounter, Six was by far the better option.

So much for stealth.

 

The spartan offered no immediate response to Falco's declaration, soon returning his attention to a meticulously organized assortment of strange items arranged on a handful of workbenches that the human must have gathered to himself, sheets of dull grey metal and what looked curiously enough like a hefty roll of fabric. What peaked Falco's interest more than that however, was the pair of exotic firearms that rested on the farthest table. They were like nothing he had ever seen before, both wildly different in design from one another, and the rest of the spartan's arsenal.

The dark blue, almost purple metaled look of the shortest rifle was a little flamboyant for Falco's taste, but the overall design of the weapon itself was enough to keep his interest. A rounded grip of solid steel and an obtuse rifle stock made less than half the length of the alien firearm. The remainder of its breadth and width held an elongated, split barrel, like the jaws of a predatory beast. In the place of teeth, a rod-shaped and in all appearances, rotary cylinder lay firmly in the center of the contraption, connecting both the stacked, dual barrels and the oddly designed stock and grip.

His eye and appreciation for ordnance had been peaked by the unusual weapon, and any other day or person would have seen to it that he figured just what kind of gun it was. But a quick look at the spartan studiously overlooking his equipment, seemingly dismissing or ignoring him, and Falco realized that it was for the best if he left Six alone.

It appeared that their association with one other was still on somewhat uneven ground.

Seeing that the spartan had nothing else to say, Falco eventually settled on a casual shrug as he visited a wall locker on the opposite end of the armory, sorting through the disorganized pile of equipment that the avian had accumulated over the years.

Though he would not know it, Six found the haphazard style and planning of Falco's gear to be both an eyesore and disrespectful to the tools themselves. In fact the avians seemingly inherent disregard for his armaments was a relatively infinitesimal but nonetheless irritating nuisance that had troubled the spartan for some time. After the laborious training from his superiors on the vital and intrinsically imperative need to care for ones arms, to see such flagrant neglect was... disconcerting.

As such, Falco did not detect the silent gait of the spartan's approach until he was mere footsteps away. It was easy for the avian to hide the beginnings of a flinch as he turned to find the towering form of Six standing just behind him. After acclimatizing to the chillingly inaudible manner in which the supersoldier conducted himself, these things hardly surprised him anymore. Though that was not to say it would ever stop being disturbing.

Uncertainty and a remembrance of the trouble he had caused both Six, and Krystal, prevented Falco from opening a line of dialogue between himself and the alien supersoldier before him. Though a part of him found it foolish that they might be angry at him for what could easily be considered a harmless question, the avian was smart enough to realize that some things just weren't that simple. 

He had seen what Six showed him, and even now, some days later, and he was still coming to grips with it. He didn't like that the short video was capable of reducing the wars they fought in Lylat to the idle silliness of a child's playtime. Corneria and its colonies had bled in the venomian uprisings, thousands, even millions of soldiers had lost their lives in these conflicts. And to see that Six's people had suffered such losses a thousand times over... just felt like a spit in the face of all that they had sacrificed, made their wars look childish and irrational, in comparison.

What did Venom fight for? Independence? Revenge? Perhaps even greed or the sense of a higher purpose?

Six's people had fought simply to survive.

Falco knew what it was like to fight to live. Every day on the streets of Velspad had been a relentless battle for the simplest means of subsistence, food, water, a safe place to rest for the night. That's where he had met Katt, just another dirty street orphan that no one wanted. Not long after they made their gang, what had started off as a small band of kids working together, transformed into a small time crime syndicate once the years passed and the work got serious. 

A small part of him missed those days... a small part. This gig with Fox was the best choice he had ever made, though he constantly scrapped with the team, he wouldn't replace them with anybody, though he'd probably die before he would admit that.

Even Six, as intimidating and frictional as he was, was someone Falco considered to be at the very least a dependable teammate. The spartan was the first person he had ever met that's origin was even more depressing than his own. He didn't know what the human's childhood was like, neither the spartan himself, Krystal or Fox had bothered to key him into that and Falco didn't care as it was none of his business. But he knew deep down that the human's past was even more violent than his own.

The kind of disposition and burden the spartan carried is the kind that can only be found in a fucked up past, though he had to be missing something else, another piece of the puzzle. Krystal and even Miyu seemed to have the hots for Six. Sure, the guy was built like a brick shithouse and made professional athletes look like emaciated sticks, and the furless nature of his species did little other than to emphasize that trait, but there had to be something more to it than his impressive physique.

As much as he and Miyu consistently grated against each other, Falco knew there was more to her than appearances. She saw... something in the big bastard, whatever that may be.

Falco wondered on what could have driven Miyu to set her sights on Six as the avian returned his attention to the silent warrior in question. In the handful of quite minutes of thought, Falco realized that the spartan had sidestepped him, and had been rummaging in his locker. A sudden wave of possessiveness washed over the avian as he turned to rebuke the human for digging through his gear when he stopped himself in surprise.

It had been quite a few years since he last saw his equipment locker in such decent shape.

Noble Six had delved into and organized the cluttered and unsystematic jumble of firearms and munitions with all the gusto and proficiency of a veteran quartermaster. More than a dozen firearms systematized, compiled, and stowed by size and variation in the time it took Falco's beak to drop open in open wonder. 

Before the avian closed his mouth, his locker clicked shut and the spartan stepped away with a partially satisfied smirk at finally having removed what had been in his eyes an inexcusable eyesore.

"Uh... thanks I guess." Falco offered somewhat uncertainly.

The spartan merely nodded in response, already turning away to return to the workbenches he had left unoccupied. But the avian stopped him with a few words, dredging what would come next.

"Hey wait a second. There's... something I feel I gotta say." 

Silently, the human turned to face the avian, his expression as neutral as ever.

Knowing that he was not exactly eloquent or forthcoming with his apologies, Falco just decided to blurt it all out. "Look dude, I'm sorry about what happened during that dinner back before we landed on Fichina. I didn't mean start anything by prodding ya about your past. I guess you could say I was just looking for something to talk about."

Falco paused, slightly unsettled by the blank face that starred back at him. If not for the fact he knew Krystal and few of the others was capable of producing some manner of expression out of him, Falco might have been intimidated by the blatant look of apathy. Instead he continued on, knowing that the visage before him was simply the spartan's state of being.

"I know we don't exactly... get along all that well. That's something any one on the team can see. I also know that we don't particularly see eye to eye on a few things and if I'm not being too rude here, you can be a pretty big ass... not that I'm any different." Falco sighed, rubbing the bridge of his beak in exasperation. "But I guess what I want is say is, despite all of our... dissimilarities, and the fact we don't know each well, that I for one am glad to have you on the team." The avian decided to omit that part of his acceptance stemmed from the realization that most threats would overlook him completely in favor of dealing with the crazy supersoldier, which suited his survivalist nature quite well.

Despite knowing otherwise, Falco waited for some kind of response, even something as simple as an offhanded, hell even dismissive acknowledgment and recognition of his words. Unsurprisingly, such sentimental wonderings found no basis as he watched the spartan turn away towards his work once more, as if the entire conversation had not taken place.

Not disappointed, but not satisfied either, Falco shrugged and returned to what he had been doing as well. He had no other real reason for coming down here than to burn time anyways. He was still dreading talking with Katt. He had no idea what he would say to her, he just knew that somehow by the end of it her fist would be well acquainted with his beak. So... yeah, not really looking forward to that.

There were a few things he could do to postpone that ass kicking and most could be found in the armory. He knew from experience that Katt was never quite as fond of the place as he was, and tended to mostly avoid the room entirely. He would have lounged in his room till they left the ship, but that would have been boring and her arrival at his door would have been inevitable.

This, albeit not the best plan... kind of was.

Falco rummaged in his locker, intending to find something to fiddle with for a little while. It was strange seeing his gear in such pristine condition. Usually after a mission he kind of just tossed the junk he brought with him into the locker and slammed it shut. To see it all neat and orderly was certainly a strange and new experience.

As he debated on whether to mess with one of his many rifles or the handful of blaster pistols he had been able to accumulate over the years, the immediate area around him darkened with what he realized was Six's shadow. Wondering what it was that the spartan could possibly want with him now, Falco turned with a slight frown to address the human, still partially miffed at their corse conversation previous.

Said dour expression instantaneously flattened into nonexistence as his eyes roved from the blank visage of the spartan to the weapon he held out extended in his large hand. Seeing that it was the very alien rifle that he had been eyeing earlier, Falco hesitantly took it into his arms, a slight grunt slipping past his beak at the unexpected heft to it. Not too heavy, but startlingly so compared to its size, the avian ran a feathered thumb across the glossy alloy composing the majority of the strange rifle.

"You once asked about the Sangheili, and I told you they were the Covenant's greatest warriors."

 

Falco looked away from his mesmerized stare upon the weapon at the sound of the spartan's gruff tone. Though he could be considered hostile, the tone Six used was merely that which he addressed those who were more associate than friend. 

 

"This is the Type-51 Plasma Repeater, the staple and favored tool for most of the Covenant's Elite. It has no safety, clip, or magazine, but a rechargeable battery that holds in approximation one-to-two-hundred plasma bolts per charge. This weapon can melt through all if not most modern infantry armors and the hulls of light vehicles. Utilize it in short, controlled bursts to achieve the most desired effect in combat and beware its proclivity for overheating. I have in my possession only one of these weapons, with access to more being an impossibility. Do not lose this."

 

If he was to be entirely honest, Falco had nearly tuned everything out after the word plasma was uttered.

This thing shoots fucking plasma?

 

Holy hell that's bad ass!

 

Falco forcefully tore his eyes away from the exotic and absolutely amazing weapon to give the spartan what was perhaps the most genuine smile he had rid himself of in quite a few years. What Six had given him was not a simple gift. This kind of weapon did not exist till the spartan explained it to him. He could not even begin to imagine how much it might cost on the black market, or what kind of secrets the CDF R&D division could glean if they cracked it open.

It felt less like a present, and more like a responsibility.

Falco could not help the smile that grew even wider on his beak.

Leave it to Six to turn a gift into a life lesson.

"Damn Six, I... don't know what to say." It had been a long while since he was last stricken speechless.

The spartan shrugged in reply. "Then say nothing, Take good care of that weapon and respect its power. Where I came from, that tool carried a twisted legacy, I expect you to change that. Prove me wrong, prove to me that aliens can be trusted, that what had once been used under malevolent intent can find a new, honorable purpose."

 

Prove to me that there really is a path to redemption.

 

Leaving his final words unarticulated, Six departed the armory to pursue another course of action, leaving Falco to his own devices.

 

*****

 

Six did not need to spend much time in his search for a particularly irascible feline, he knew Miyu well enough to have an understanding for her retreats, both on the ship and back on Corneria. Though this was perhaps the first time he could remember actively seeking her out, which coincidently led into his reasoning why.

In discovering his profound affection for Krystal, he realized that there was another woman in his life that he had neglected in a way that was reprehensible and unwarranted, one that had been as, if not more persistent in her efforts to understand and befriend him. As he was new to this business of not withholding his reservations and being more forthcoming with his disposition, he was still trying to figure things out. Yet he knew that his continuous, albeit offhanded dismissal of Miyu's attention was an act that now concerned and disturbed him.

She had put her belief in him since near the moment they had met. Where Krystal's initial reaction to him had been cool and distant, the feline had never bothered with such things, and had engaged him with both a familiar and sociable atmosphere despite his past tempers. She was, at his fundamental understanding of her, a woman with an indescribable significance to him. That was to insinuate that he was uncertain of the truth depth of her prominence in his life.

Like Krystal, she appeared to possess some manner of affection for him, though he could not fathom her reasoning. Six had not made any express movements to garner her attention, and had for most part, treated her poorly. The fact that she seemed to be relentlessly enamored with him despite his pitiable treatment of her was a topic of some introspective disgust for the spartan.

She deserved better than to be mistreated and principally cast aside. Coming to terms as he was with the intense nature of Krystal's infatuation with himself, and the ensuing realization that he was just as smitten by the vixen, Six was uncertain how to handle the peculiarity of his situation.

Both vixen and feline appeared to have cast their ballot alongside him, for good or ill, he now understood this reality. Possessing no real or implied understanding of the profundity of romantic relationships, the meaning and significance of this position escaped Six utterly. Though it was difficult for the spartan to wrap his mind around the resultant effects of this comprehension, he absolved to handle this with the customary prudence and pragmatism of his usual deliberations.

As it was implied to him in his limited knowledge, both Krystal and Miyu would have to be placed in proportionately equal positions of influence in regards to any decisions he would make in regards to his, or he now supposed, their, mutual longevity. Although, that did not alter much in the way of the more immediate concerns, he had a shadow of a feeling that this would affect his long term plans, plans he had yet to mark down.

And for once, the thought that his life would be made more difficult did not bother him in the slightest. Any difficulty involving either women or any member of Starfox, was a burden he would gladly bear, for he could hardly call such things an encumbrance, perhaps on his body, but not his soul.

Six stowed his musing as he crossed the final corridor in his path, his journey depositing him before the partition leading towards Miyu's quarters. While not perhaps the first stop he might have made in most situations, the conversation he wished to engage the feline with was rather... personal, so he was hoping it might be conducted in a more private setting.

Eyeing the large, rectangular case in his hands with some uncertainty, Six lifted one away to whack gently on the door. The report of his knuckles resounding off steel only briefly filled the quite of the hall, before he was left standing in silence once more.

Then he waited.

In the silence he could hear the barest traces of some sort of tone in the air, like the faint beat of a military marching drum he heard on the handful of times he had been forced to endure a parade. He knew not what to make of it or where its origin lay. However, as he deemed it non-threatening and therefore not his concern, the spartan banished the notion swiftly.

Several minutes passed, with the spartan patiently standing in wait before the door for it to open. Although, as minutes continued to slip by, his doubts grew more substantial. After ten minutes more, he repeated his earlier action, sound once more occupying the empty corridor around him.

Shifting the box in his grip, Six wondered if perhaps she was away at the moment, perchance lounging about the common room with all the languid proclivities of her ancestry. An unexpected sensation of melancholy bubbled into existence inside him and the spartan withheld a small frown as he turned to walk away.

It had taken many hours of personal convincing, and even a surprising but no less considerable effort on Krystal's part for him to gather the nerve to confront the feline so openly about the meaning and standing of their association with one another. He had been pondering the dilemma the moment he and Krystal had risen from their bed. It was easier for him to do so with Krystal, but Miyu had always been able to put him off his feet in a metaphorical sense. She was a great deal more difficult to understand than Krystal, and her coquettish nature only grew more and more uncomfortable as he dwelt further on what she implied so flirtatiously.

What he had once ignored so effortlessly now had a far greater impact than he could have ever predicted. Previous remarks that would not have even tickled his notice, now stirred an uncomfortable fire in his blood that he could not deduce the purpose of its existence.

Still, in spite of all this, her frustrating nature and aggressive personality, Miyu was important to him, and he would do all in his power to see that she lived a comfortable existence.

As his body twisted in tandem with the course correction his boots had made, the spartan paused, his ears picking up the faint click of the door unlocking behind him. Turning his head back, Six nearly forced another involuntary step backwards as he was barraged with a harsh cacophony of noise that exploded forth from the confines of Miyu's quarters. His highly developed hearing deciphered the sharp thunder of musical instruments within the chaotic symphony cascading in the deafening waves from the room's interior.

Frozen in place with brief shock, Six watched as Miyu stepped out from the confines of her quarters, the feline bedecked in an outfit he had yet to see her wear. Her shapely, muscled legs were secreted beneath a faded pair of blue jeans, exposed gashes in the stitching placed at seemingly random intervals revealing patches of her spotted fur as they poked out from within. The black sleeveless tank top covering her torso was equally washed-out and slashed in places, yet the artistic decal of the skeletal fox centered on her breasts was undamaged, the words Iron Vixen printed out in bright red italics, the bold script written onto the shirt slightly strained by her bosom. As the lynx's eyes looked towards him, Miyu's paw scratched at an itch on her check, the spartan realizing that she wore a pair of fingerless gloves stitched with ballistic plating.

The sight was... unconventional.

Yet the warm smile that appeared on the feline's muzzle was anything but as she regarded him with open affection, the feline using her other paw to key a function on her wrist computer, moments later silencing the deafening racket emanating from her chambers. 

"Heya Six, sorry I didn't hear ya knocking. I must have been playing my music too loud." She chuckled apologetically, the truth of her regret laying in the bashful flick of her ear.

"Music?" He inquired with a skeptically raised eyebrow. Six had listened to a wide diversity of composition, albeit most instances conducted through second hand mediators such as particularly boisterous marines or fleet officers. He himself was partial to the classical works of Bach and Beethoven in some of the quieter, contemplative moments that had been few and far between. But what she had been... listening too, was unlike anything he had ever heard before.

At his blatant suspicion the feline's chuckle slid into an amused giggle as she nodded emphatically, her ears bobbing along merrily with her. "You sound just like my dad. You even nailed his expression perfectly." She answered with a fang filled grin, her lithe form easily sashaying to the side as she made a welcoming gesture with her paw. "Come on in, I promise I won't play any music, unless you specifically ask me to."

Nodding his acceptance, the spartan stepped in after her, his eyes subconsciously roving the interior of her room. As this was his first time inside her room onboard the ship, he took a few seconds to study the interior, first noticing the numerous posters plastered across the walls, the vast majority of which, all appeared to be of the same composer, this... Iron Vixen. The room itself seemed to be a corresponding counterpart to its owner, both seeming to carry the same rebellious theme.

Switching his curiosity to inquiry, he scanned the chamber for a place to set the container down, finding a suitable location on the desk the feline had shoved into a far corner. Taking care not to misplace the various figurines of variable design scattered about the desktop, he gingerly set the case down in approximation of the bureau's center.

With his task completed the spartan turned to Miyu, who had already made herself comfortable in the interim. The feline lay sprawled languidly across her bed like a roman emperor, with the confidence and supremacy of Marcus Aurelius himself. Reclining on her side with a leg tucked close to her waist, the lynx's tail flicked inanely, a slothful and capricious manner that seemed far too casual to be unrehearsed. Warm amber eyes, already powerful on their own, were strengthened by a half lidded, smoky glower, regarding him from a smiling muzzle that had propped itself up on an indolent paw, the other tracing small lazy circles in the sheets in front of her.

Unable to steel her shameless, visual examination of his person, Six temporarily removed his gaze from hers, what was in no small part also induced by the current revealing nature of her upper apparel in its current state.

Looking about the room, Six noticed that there was nowhere for himself to sit, and the brief gleam of amusement that flashed in the feline's eyes inferred to him that she had either planned this, or had conducted some other form of mischief.

Letting an audible sigh pass through his lips, the spartan maneuvered towards the bed and set himself down at the foot. Whereas Miyu might have thought he would have stopped their, the feline's smug grin dropped as she watched the spartan lean back and slip into casual repose next to her, the human's arms crossed behind his head as he lounged beside her with the barest trace of a grin.

He watched in amusement as the ruff around the feline's check darkened considerably and much of her confident demeanor vanished, the lynx seemingly stuck halfway between an elated smile and uncertain frown.

This only heightened the spartan's amusement further as he had finally managed to out flirt the flirt.

He studied the female as she seemed to be temporarily displaced in her usual routine, her salvation arriving in the form of the case on her desk as she turned to admire it.

"So... what's in the box?" She asked, her eyes glistening with feline curiosity.

"A gift..." He answered cryptically.

He watched, waited, and admired the woman in front of him, counting down in his head the seconds before her inbred nature would undeniably win out, as he studied the facets of her expression. She truly was beautiful, now that he was willing to be fully forthright with himself. It was not the standardized template of beauty as a human might interpret it, she certainly possessed the more obvious qualities that human's found desirable, but that was not what drew him to her. A normal man might not share the spartan's worldviews and perceptions. He did not look to her and admire that which a regular man might.

One of her paws grabbed his attention, the appendage subconsciously kneading the sheets tucked in her bed as the feline eyed the box intently. Her tail flopped softly against the downy mattress, giving Miyu all the appearance of a feline on the hunt. It was her more... inhuman qualities, which fascinated him.

Utterly magnificent... The spartan mused with an unreadable smile.

Though the feline was civilized, Six had a feeling that certain traits of her heritage still lingered underneath. Unlike typical humans, she was a predator, a hunter by perception and design. The species she stemmed from was different from humanity in that way. Even Krystal, as kindly and reserved as she was, had been born into the same selective and rare category as Miyu. Foxes, lynxes, both species had developed as stalker predators, hunters and foragers.

Anthropomorphized, this process had only been streamlined. Their musculature, while appearing human at first and causal glance, was not entirely so. Their bodies' mimicked humans with an almost anatomical parallel in some instances, but their inherent nature and the way their bodies moved and contorted, made humanity appear gangly and oafish in comparison. Even the simplest of their movements carried an innate grace and fluidity that only a spartan or practiced gymnast could match.

Their hands, or paws, whatever one might call that which separated them from their roots, were the only thing that differed from that inborn elegance. Somewhat shorter and of wider circumference than what he might expect from a human appendage, they still possessed the manipulative capacity of their digits that allowed humanity to rise above its forbearers.

Six had never seen their like before, not even amongst the hierarchy of jumbled alien species that composed the Covenant. Their familiarity to human perception, yet brazen dissimilarity, was something he had not pondered the significance off. The Covenant had been truly alien, but these people possessed human language and even culture in some regard. He found this interesting, and if he had still been with ONI, it might have been cause for investigation, but that was past him.

Six chuckled softly as he watched Miyu literally pounce on the desk, the rolling chair that had once occupied that space sent skidding across the floor in her curiosity fueled haste as the feline violently lifted the case to study it from various angles, like an impatient child with a present.

The sight was... endearing. 

"You gonna tell me what's in it?" She looked to him expectantly, tail fluttering with inquisitive agitation.

In answer the spartan offered an unhelpful shrug.

With an amused flick of her ears and phony pout, the feline fumbled for the latches on the container, quickly and diligently popping it open and lifting the top to peer inside.

Six watched as the cat stilled and went silent, slowly reaching inside the long tube-like case to extract what lay within. Dark blue, almost purple metal gleamed under the light of the bedroom as the feline studied the alien weapon in front of her.

Yet she set that aside as she noticed the faint pink glow emanating from within the partially closed case. Curious, she reached inside and pulled out a smaller transparent container stacked with glowing cylindrical cartridges.

Confused and still holding the strange glowing cylinders, she shifted her attention to the smiling human reclined across her bed.

"What exactly am I looking at?"

"That, is the Type-31 Needle Rifle, a weapon of Covenant design."

 

"So..." She mused with a strange, expressionless air. "It's an alien... alien gun." Not only was it alien to her, but Six as well in some fashion.

"Yes." He nodded. "I retrieved that not long before I left Reach, though I have since declined to use it. The ammunition is unique, even amongst the usual fare for Covenant munitions. Perhaps Slippy will be able to replicate the process. Either way, it still has a substantial allotment that I had been able to scavenge before departing the planet. Think of it like a marksman rifle, one that if, landing more than two shots on an individual target, will create a supercombine explosion that will put down nearly any opposition feasible."

 

Six watched the feline carefully as he explained the Covenant weapon's traits, a slight sense of doubt lingering in his chest at the unreadable look on her muzzle. He had thought it would make for a good gift to give; something that could spur the reparations he felt was owed to her for his negligence, a win-win scenario as it was, considering he had no use for the device himself. This inclined that the seemingly unimpressed aura about her was not what he had anticipated.

"Do yo-" Six was about to inquire on whether or not it was satisfactory when his vision was swallowed by a wall of dark brown fur and black spots. The increasingly familiar sensation of a female wrapped around his torso was easily recognized as he watched in silent surprise as the feline pressed herself into his arms with a rumbling purr.

On a newly acquired reflex, the spartan held her close and pressed his lips against her brow, planting a kiss between the triangular flaps of her ears, watching the gold loop in her left jangle as it swung from the force of her movements.

He had not expected such a virulent reaction, not that he could possibly disparage her for it. He was... content, to see her so exultant. Such a sight was of great relief and pleasure for him. Considering the substantial grief he had imposed upon her, it was time he gave her something truly worth smiling about. But such a gift alone was not enough to set his mind at ease. He intended to explain himself as well. As Krystal had shown him, it was not considered pitiable to unburden ones thoughts one another, since he discovered this and adapted to such a way of consideration, he found both his mood and outlook on life to have brightened considerably. 

"I hope you can forgive me for how horribly I have treated you." Six whispered softly, resting his arms just above the curvature of where her spine met her rear, just above her tail. He learned that Krystal enjoyed being held in such a manner, and hoped it might produce the same effect on Miyu. "It has taken too long for me to realize that I have hurt you... mistreated you. I know that you... care for me... like Krystal." It was a test of the spartan's will to confess his awareness of that truth, something he had not wanted to face and had deliberately ignored the existence of. He did not like the feeling it provoked so forcefully upon his musings, as if he were using them, abusing their affection. It disgusted him, the thought that he was simply toying with their emotions. They meant far more to him than that.

This was the very reason he fought so hard with himself in this moment to address something he considered to be deathly personal. If he was to be there for them both, he had to break away from a lifetime of solitude and despondency. They deserved nothing but his full commitment and conviction. To do anything less than that was to dishonor their faith and trust in him, and he'd rather put himself down like an animal than break that belief.

"It is source of mystification for me why you both seem to care for a man who has been cruel and hateful towards you on numerous occasions. But I swear I shall do my utmost to ensure that your faith was not misplaced."

 

Maneuvering to put a gap between them so he could look into her eyes and determine if his efforts were succeeding, Six found himself peering into a pair of bright golden orbs that glistened in the light that was unfortunately a visual he had become well acclimatized to. Realizing that she had been crying, Six scolded himself sharply, knowing that he had to have made some manner of error in how he spoke with her. His first attempt at offering warmth and consolation had already ended up in failure.

Opening his lips to offer his sincere apologies, Six was once more caught off guard when the feline lunged forwards with an unexpected but undeniable velocity to close the short distance between them, the spartan virtually reeling back in shock at the foreign tongue that had invaded his mouth without warning, one that was utterly alien to Krystal's with its strange barb-like protrusions. Closely following the connection of awkwardly intertwined lips that had never been intentionally deigned to meet, Six felt pressure on the back of his head, the ravenous lynx clasping her paws through his shortened hair as she forced him backwards till his spine met the cushioned softness of the mattress below him.

He could have easily resisted and subverted the feline's efforts. The spartan far surpassed her in both physical strength and martial prowess so removing her from his personal vicinity would have taken seconds and a minimal expenditure of effort, but something stopped him, something inexplicable within him that informed Six that this was... right, despite the knowledge that his instincts cried out against this familiarity she took with him. Where he would have initially felt a great quantity of aversion and discomfort at finding someone intimately engaged with him at such a personal level, he only found himself intrigued by this unusual development, intrigued and... something else. He could not quite place it, but the sensation was there, just at the precipice of his comprehension.

That however did not mean the lynx's invasion of his person was easy to accept, and it took a large portion of his mental acuity to try and understand the situation he was currently experiencing, but with some some difficulty, the spartan was able to objectively analyze his position, noting the undulating feline atop his chest. In instinct born of his more human nature, Six shifted his hands lower from their previous position to cup the woman's buttocks, enfolding his fingers in the firm softness now in his grasp, testing its strange elasticity with near scientific curiosity. He had never before allowed himself such freedom, not with Krystal or anyone else, but something about this particular instance appeared able to tip him over the edge, to the point where, at least on a subconscious level, he could act out on instincts that had been internally ostracized for numerous long years. It was hard to understand the sensations running through his mind as his hands roved across the feline's slender physique, but the predominate perception in his thoughts was clear and unbidden by past pretense.

He felt... satisfaction.

At his touch, the feline emitted a low whine that felt strange but not unpleasant as it echoed from within her chest into his own. The noise was... desirable, to his ears, far better than that so called music she had been listening to before he arrived. Yet a thought did give him momentary pause, even in with his time with Krystal this could be considered startlingly... intimate. Six felt an uncontrollable grunt escape his body as he affirmed his grip on Miyu's flank, an inexplicable rush of possessiveness and fire coursing through his veins as he held her close. A haze gripped his thoughts, obscuring his high cognitive processes with a cloud of incomprehensible emotions.

A tightening sensation afflicted his lower body, and as the spartan realized what that signified, what it was that had stricken him, he was shaken out of his hazy reverie as the chill of ice ran rampant through his veins. Mortification burned hotly within him and the spartan released his grip on the feline, slowly extracting himself from her lips with a muted gasp that was replicated by a louder, more expressive extent by the woman atop him.

The lynx gasping and panting for breath, Miyu rolled off his torso, though one of her arms lingered across his chest as she sighed softly up into the ceiling.

"That... was pretty great." She informed the steel above their heads, taking a few long moments to compose herself before turning on her side to meet his eyes. It was then the feline noticed the uncertainty and embarrassment that still remained on the spartan's expression and hummed softly as she held his cheek in her paw.

"Hey, hey, don't look like that." She murmured soothingly as she kissed him, this one soft and gentle upon his brow as she spoke in a tone that was bereft of her usual fire and passion. In that moment to Six, with that tender softness and seemingly inherent understanding, she sounded just like Krystal, what was to him a reassuring thought in this moment of perplexity. "What we just shared was nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. It's completely normal, hell... even better than normal. I haven't kissed all that many guys, but I can say you're something else Six. That was just..." She trailed off with a wistful sigh, draping another arm across his chest as she scooted herself into a comfortable position at his side.

No words were said for several moments, Miyu occupied with reminiscing on the first true display of deeper and more profound affection she had ever received from Six, and the spartan was still coming to terms with the knowledge of what he was still capable of.

Six thought that part of his human nature had been thoroughly expunged from him by the augmentations and years of dulling warfare. The realization that it still very much existed was a source of confusion for him.

He felt strange, and yet... content in a way.

In that moment he had felt more alive than he had in years.

"Thank you Six. Not just for the gun... but for everything."

Leaving his thoughts behind, he turned to the feline that held him close, a look of utter adoration and contentment both in her eyes and in her smile.

Knowing that he was still as of yet incapable of speaking exactly what he thought of her, the spartan simply smiled in return, placing a hand in her paw as they lay in the bed for a little while longer.

He knew there were a few things he still had for the day, meeting the newest member of their crew, departing the Great Fox for a social excursion of Fox's design. And yet where he would have once lamented the unnecessary complications offered by this team. Six now found the idea of spending time with his family to be something he looked forwards to. For now he could postpone his concerns at this development and ponder the unusually bright prospects of his way of life instead.

The future that awaited him remained uncertain, yet he felt as if he could face it alongside those that stood beside him.

Six looked into Miyu's soft smile.

I love you.

The words were unspoken, perhaps never to be uttered by a man too frightened of that realization, too afraid to open himself so utterly and completely.

But her expression led him to believe that perhaps she already knew that.

 

*****

 

"It was...nice talking with you again, Katt."

"Yeah..."

She replied rather awkwardly as the woman watched Falco leave her room. The feline supposed that it really had been nice, though plenty awkward. She had honestly been surprised when the bird sought her out; she had thought he would have played his childish game of avoidance for at least a little longer. Perhaps he too had grown from their time apart.

Though it had been an uncomfortable and difficult conversation, Katt felt only relief at its conclusion. Words had been aired, truths revealed, and a sense of peace settled over a topic neither had wished to broach in years.

It had been somewhat stinging to hear that he felt more for her like a sibling than a lover, but she had surmounted that hill a while ago. It would be nice to even just have that now. Sure it could only be a terribly rocky start, but she hoped to regain the lost ground that had risen up in their absence from one another.

Sighing, she slung her messenger bag across her shoulder and stepped out into the hall after she was certain that Falco had enough time to walk away. Out in the corridor, she paused upon hearing Miyu's door crack open. The feline glanced down at her wrist device, noting that it was just a few minutes before the team would have to meet Fox at the ramp. The idiot had decided that what they needed was a 'recreational outing to ensure maximum team bonding'; still, she smiled at the memory of that conversation.

The vulpine really was a big doofus at times, and yet he was the best damn leader she had ever come across. However, there were sure to be many awkward moments abound with one bird she kind of sort of wished to avoid and another new team member that had initially scared the pants off her.

She still hadn't seen the guy since he knocked her out with his oppressive field of badassery, as she was going to now call it. After all, the last thing she had expected was to witness from someone Fox selected was a live execution. 

Yeah, that had been... traumatic. But after hearing what those bastards had done to Krystal, and seeing it in a brief conversation she shared with the vixen over lunch, she supposed it was the least that should have been done.

Looking up from her wrist device, Katt froze in place as she watched the towering figure that followed Miyu out of her room. At first glance, she did not know what she was looking at. While faintly simian in appearance he was a damn sight handsomer than those ugly apes on Venom. The guy's arms and legs were thicker than a goddamned oak tree, and just positively rippling with muscle. His neck and shoulders, while not obscenely bulging, gave no illusion that he was weak. She knew that if this guy wanted he could easily break her spine across his knee.

Goddamn that was hot.

But his face gave her rampant ogling hesitation. Hard eyes of crimson and sapphire, and a sharp jawline like chiseled stone, turned from their examination of the corridor and centered on her. The fur on her neck, shoulders, and damn near about her entire body bristled under his gaze. There was nothing remotely sociable about that dude's face, scars across the brow and an eye, pale white skin, and peppering of raven black hair across his cheeks and a haircut that utterly howled military.

He was the utter depiction of hostility.

Then... he smiled.

Like a switch had been flipped, his entire outlook changed.

His once opposing eyes were warm and inviting, perhaps even a little alluring, the grimace on his lips and the hard edges of his face softened into the picture perfect representation of a friendly smile. His pallid skin now appeared like the sweetest cream she would probably ever taste and his scars spoke of experience as a soldier who fought on the frontlines with courage and valor.

Damn... now he was even sexier.

The military nature of his apparel and its black and blue accents actually flattered both his build and appearance, and the feline felt a small pang of jealousy that Krystal and Miyu snatched such a hunk away.

It was selfish really.

Despite his unarmored appearance, she could think of no other individual that could fit Six's description if one were to take the suit away.

Seeing as they were all headed for the same place, Katt stood still and waited for the feline and her bodyguard/lover to meet up with her.

"Sup Miyu... and you must be Six." She greeted both the lynx and her companion with a smile.

The lumbering giant nodded graciously with all the airs of a noble or aristocrat at a social function as his welcoming smile widened fractionally. "Correct Miss Monroe, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in detail."

 

If only to affirm her previous recognition, the voice truly sold it to her that this individual was Six, rough like cheap vodka, but smooth as fine cognac. It sent a shiver down her spine. And his smell, gods! A faint but not overwhelming scent of a pine forest that did not overpower his naturally pleasant odor filled her snout, with the faint whiff of some manner of oils that also lingered, most likely for weapons.

"Please, we're all friends here, just call me Katt." She managed to speak without embarrassing herself with a squeak.

The giant nodded once more with the expected grace and modesty of someone so utterly sophisticated. "Of course, Katt." With that he took a step back from the pair of felines and bowed slightly. "I will leave you girls to gossip as there a few things left I wished to do before we departed."

 

Swiveling on his heels, the male she knew as Six strode down the hall with a mutability and erudition that left Katt's jaw hinged open. Turning her still open muzzle to Miyu's smirking expression, she scoffed loudly.

"Damn selfish of you two, keeping that to yourselves."

"Finders keepers." The lynx retorted with a giggle and vigorous raspberrying of her tongue as she set the pace for their walk.

"Damn unfair." Katt muttered playfully as she tagged behind. 

"Just so you know, I'm gonna flirt my heart out with that guy." The pink feline cautioned her friend.

At that, the lynx actually faltered half a step before carrying on with a focused stare backwards. "Just be a little careful, alright? Six has... been through a lot. All I ask is that you treat him kindly."

At that Katt huffed. "He's more likely to break me in half than anything. Gods, how would you even go about hitting that? I mean, how big do you think his-"

Katt's sentence was never completed as she suddenly found herself eating a mouthful of Miyu's tail, spluttering in disgust as she tried to remove the strands of fur that clung to the barbs on her tongue.

It took several minutes before she was able to speak freely again without the threat of coughing up hair. "Right... no dick jokes, got it." She muttered dourly. "Still though, youprobablycouldn'ttakeit." She rushed out the last part of her sentence to prevent another tail whip, arms already raised to intercept. When no blow landed, Katt lowered her arms to see a violent blush on her fellow feline's muzzle.

"Shut your trap before I make you." It was clear that this was Katt's once chance to be quite. And seeing the look in her friend's eyes was enough to hammer the point home that maybe jokes of that line would not be all that amusing, at least in reference to Six. 

Instead of answering, Katt nodded and studiously kept her mouth shut as she followed Miyu the rest of the way to the hanger. Taking the lift by the main entrance, they traveled down to the deck where they could see the rest of the team already assembled, sans Six.

Stepping onto the main floor, she and Miyu traversed the remaining few meters before they stopped amidst the small crowd. Seeing Krystal there, trapped into a wheelchair, sent a brief pang of sadness through Katt's heart. Though she and Miyu were good friends and well known associates for years, Katt didn't know Krystal all too well in comparison, but at the end of the day she was Starfox just like herself, and that meant she was family. Katt vowed to make the venomians pay, in time of course.

"Sup Snowball, Featherhead, Bookworm, Bluebutt, Worrywart, and of course Captain Valorous." Katt addressed all the present members of the crew respectively.

Receiving various reactions of amusement and groaning, she looked Fox with a grin as she upheld her paws grandiosely. "Like I never left, right?"

"Suffice to say, I think we all missed you, Katt." The vulpine replied with a sardonic grin. "So... see Six again did ya?"

She nodded mirthfully. "Yeah, thought the bastard was big in armor, didn't think it was the same out of it. Where the hell did he come from?"

"As I'm sure the others have told you, it's a long story. Hopefully if you ask nicely he'll tell you, maybe even over a few drinks."

"Drinks?' What's the plan?" Slippy wondered. As usual, keeping his head down into his work disconnected him with the happenings of the crew.

"A little while ago I pledged to you guys that I'd take you out for drinks. Now that the whole gangs here I think it's time I returned to that promise."

Fox's answer was met with varying but no less potent levels of excitement. It'd been quite a while since they last spent a night on the town, not since the incident with the shears and a horrifyingly inebriated lynx.

"Speaking of the whole crew, where's the demigod?" Falco asked.

"Six will be here in just a few seconds, apparently there was something he wanted to take with him. Ah, there he is now." Fox looked past the assembled group toward the lift, the rest turning to watch the spartan approach, the human carrying two small packages in one large hand.

"Greetings Six." Peppy looked towards the spartan with a warm smile, the faint tinge of understanding seeming to reflect between them.

"Peppy." The spartan inclined his head in greeting as he continued on to stand behind Krystal.

Katt watched curiously as he laid one hand on her shoulder the other placing one of the parcels in the vixen's lap as she smiled up at him sweetly, the other, he tossed towards Fox who snatched it out of the air with an expression that spoke of his curiosity.

"I will let you know when to open them." The spartan answered the unspoken question.

"Right, mystery gifts aside, let's get rolling." Falco demanded impatiently, receiving irritated looks from Fox, Krystal, and Miyu. "I mean whenever you guys are ready of course." The avian corrected nervously.

"I hate to agree with him, but we should probably get moving." Fay sighed.

"Then let's not waste any further time, daylight's burning people!" Turning to lead the charge, Fox opened the access ramp and put the first leg forwards on their trip.

Rolling her eyes at his over-the-top antics, Katt moved to follow as did the others.

Still, it was damn good to be back.

 

*****

 

The small collection of friends made for quite the bizarre sight, even on the streets of the cornerian capital, a place that witnessed more than its fair share of unusual things to see. Or at least, that's what Miyu believed. If anything they made for a motley assortment of peculiar persons of fluctuating interest.

Leading the vanguard for their uncanny menagerie, Fox guided them down streets he had known for near his entire adult life, the vulpine and the rest of Starfox doing well to ignore the various snooping stares gravitating in their direction. Striding beside the already famous tod with a lissome confidence and grace, was an individual that had been growing increasingly prevalent in mainstream cornerian media. Noble Six, the newly recognized affiliate of the Starfox mercenary company, unwittingly had his popularity soar to unforeseen heights as tales of his exploits were deliberately unclassified by the CDF and offered for public perusal, piecemeal. It came as no surprise that after most people heard tale of his extraordinary accomplishments that they hardly bothered to question his unique appearance. 

Though conceivably considered a strange and unusual move by the military, it was clear to Miyu that it had been allowed in an effort to boost morale, and for recruiting purposes as well. Passing through the streets, the lynx had already noticed an enlisting poster hanging off the side of an office building that contained an undeniably flattering depiction of the supersoldier in his powered armor. She had to give her accolades to the artist; they had certainly nailed the human warrior to the minute detail, even going so far as to include the visible declinations of his musculature through the strange fiber optics of his inner armor layer.

The spartan cut a fairly striking and heroic pose through the stylized rendition of historically old war propaganda, massive rifle slung across a hulking armored shoulder as he planted a victorious greave atop the smoking wreckage of a venomian assault tank, the words Cornerian Victory, imposed upon the bottom of the print. Even she had to admit that the image filled her with some manner of undeniable patriotism... and a few other emotions she could not articulate in pleasant company. After all, she had seen his prowess for herself, firsthand.

Miyu had plans to snag one of the artworks for her bedroom when she had the free time, for morale purposes she told herself.

Despite this, or perhaps in direct result of his fame, the spartan appeared more uncomfortable than usual with being in the open. His occasional glances towards the civilian masses and slight hesitation in his stride were enough for Miyu to notice. 

So if she noticed, it was obvious to the lynx that Krystal did as well. Miyu looked away from the human soldier to the vixen sitting in the chair before her as she rolled them both along. If the female fox herself was embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state she did not show it. Miyu was impressed that despite her current situation, Krystal's disposition remained unchallenged, the vixen still appeared just as proud and regal as she had the day Fox found her on Sauria.

She even has her own servant. Miyu chuckled at the thought, especially as she realized that retainer was herself. Still, she didn't mind wheeling the vixen around, though she did wonder why Krystal had refused Six's offer to do so, answering his unspoken question with a faint allusion for her desire for independence.

That personally baffled Miyu, who would have loved to have the spartan wait on her, paw and foot, the lynx imagining such a scenario with an eager smile. Not that it would ever occur, he was far too... Sixish, to let something like that happen.

Disbanding her wandering thoughts, Miyu returned them to the people with her, particularly the pink feline ambling along with Fay and Slippy, the trio babbling away as if they had never been apart, but clearly eager to make up for lost time. Behind them, Falco brought up the rear with Peppy, the pair seemingly finding a brief kinship in their desires to remain unbothered.

It was impressive that Fox had managed to drag both the avian and the hare out, as they hardly ever left for a group excursion. Peppy never really enjoyed them and Falco always preferred to spend the night out on his own, where he would usually get himself embroiled in all manners of minor mischief that he would without a doubt regale the rest of the crew with once he returned.

Miyu herself commonly found it hard to fit into this dynamic. When the team normally went out like this, they split into little cliques that they unconsciously formed. The techies usually banded together, Falco and Peppy never really offered any serious contribution, and Fox more often than not spent the night with his fiancé, leaving just her and Krystal to fend for themselves.

Though the lynx felt like she wasn't doing her team justice with that generalization, truth of the matter was they stuck together for the most part. But it was always more so in spirit than anything else, and Miyu often found herself at the ass end of a conversation that she felt she was not really a part of.

With such circumstances, it was no wonder she always drank so heavily during these outings.

This time felt different however, there was an air about the team that had never been there before. Everyone felt... closer, more familial, even Falco. She couldn't place what the modifier might be that offered such change, but she was not willing to question a good thing, merely happy that this time might be different.

"You seem to be acting rather pensive today, Miyu."

The lynx was shaken out of her deep musing at the sound of Krystal's voice, looking down to see the coy smile on the vixen's muzzle.

As she had grown used to, Miyu brushed the piercing nature of the other woman's observation with a shrug. "I can do the whole silent brooding act too ya know. Six isn't the only one."

"So I've noticed." Krystal responded with a discerning sparkle in her eye. "What were you brooding about?' The vixen wondered, her curiosity sharpening to a razor's edge.

"Oh you know, a little bit of this and a little bit of that." Miyu answered offhandedly, the lynx somewhat uncomfortable at the pointed nature of the female fox's inquiry.

The vixen, seeming to notice that such was a topic the other female did not want to broach, went silent with a gentle nod of her snout.

Miyu felt a little guilty at being so evasive, it was not like that she really had anything to hide from the other woman. After all, they were both pursing the same guy, which kind of transcended most social obstructions in her mind. It was not entirely unusual for two females to find themselves pining after the same male, or rather to see them come to an agreement over such a thing. It was a prevalent occurrence in cornerian history, from a time where most males had been killed off in the wars that popped into existence every few decades. That had left relatively few in number to be claimed, and it had not been unusual for conflicts to develop as a result. Seeing as their collective species could not afford even more wars, those in charge had created a set of laws to govern such incidences in hopes of restoring peace, reestablishing commandments that had been in place in the time of their ancestors. These guidelines had been called the pack bylaws.

Since then modern times had seen such outdated edicts fade into partial ambiguity. With the inclusion of females into the military and a return of normal preproduction levels, these laws had no longer been needed to be upheld, and were mostly set aside by the general populace.

However, there were still a few occasions in these times that brought about the importance of ancient rules, like their mutual affection for Six. Neither was really comfortable with the situation, which was blatant in the few awkward conversations they had shared on the topic recently.

However, they both agreed that a male like Six was worth the stress and discomfort. It was quite literally impossible to find another like him, he was unique both at a physical and psychological level. And while Miyu had at first possessed doubts about this unique arrangement, when the spartan had arrived at her door earlier that day he had banished those concerns when it became clear that Six would never abandon her.

Yet something about that made her curious.

"So... I can assume that you had something to do with Six stopping by my room today?" Miyu inquired with a keenly interested focus on Krystal. She had a deep enough understanding of the spartan to know that some form of external stimulus must have been utilized to prod him into the right direction.

At her investigation, the vixen offered a weak, and to some extent awkward grin as she momentarily looked to the human in question as he appeared to be in idle discussion with Fox, their words unintelligible from the front of the party. "I... might have had some part in that, yes. Though to be fair to him, he had been thinking of approaching you for some time from what he told me. All I did was give him the nudge he needed."

Miyu stayed silent for a few moments after Krystal's answer, not entirely confident on how to respond to that. On one side, she felt that she should be grateful for the assistance, yet on the other the lynx was trying to justify that impression of appreciativeness given its context. Despite the sense that this new knowledge made hers and the spartan's time together seem forced or demeaning; she knew that was not true. If anything it should have delighted her to know that Krystal was willing to see that they both were regarded equally in Six's discernment.

"I... guess I should thank you for that." Miyu finally relented with a halfway whimsical chuckle, doing well to disguise the insecurity she felt in that moment. "It was nice to finally spend some... quality time with him."

"You're welcome." Krystal offered the lynx an earnest smile, though the shine in her eye flickered ominously. "If I may not sound too forward, what exactly was the extent of your... quality time?"

Miyu felt an unbidden swallow wet her dry throat as she found herself trapped under that inquisitive stare, though void of any trace or readable intent of animosity, the open sense of interest from the vixen was almost just as bad. "Oh... uh... nothing crazy, just well... we kissed. And there may have been a little... groping?" She finished uncertainly, the lynx cringing slightly at her wordage. She was not exactly used to regaling other people with her intimate exploits; though that was the farthest she had ever really gotten with anyone to be fair and honest.

"G-groping?" Krystal stuttered softly, the vixen's cheeks darkening a light rosy color as wide emerald eyes turned away to linger on the back of the spartan walking ahead of them as he watched Fox pantomime excitedly about some story or other he was enthusiastically orating. If not for the human's elusive smile on his otherwise expressionless visage, he would have appeared less than enamored with the conversation. "You actually were able to get that far with him?" The vixen asked, seemingly halfway impressed by the lynx's unknowing accomplishment.

"Well... tch yeah of course." Miyu produced a loud huff halfway stuck somewhere between self-assurance and blustering hesitation. "Are you honestly so surprised?"

"Yes." Krystal nodded with an undeniably elegant poise that was yet still able to come off as somewhat girlish and flighty. "I have... not really quite reached that point with him." The vixen looked up to Miyu expectantly, her expression torn between eager interest and a desire to remain composed and aloof. "Tell me, how were you able to get him to open up to the idea?"

"Oh well...." The lynx took a paw off the wheelchair's handle bar and tentatively scratched at her neck. For all her typical bluster and rather vain whims, she found the idea in confiding herself in Krystal, in explaining what happened between her and Six in any detail, to be... uncomfortable. "I guess just try and be a little more... assertive. He's even denser than other males so you have to be slightly more direct in conveying your needs. After you break the tension, so to speak, he becomes less hesitant towards the idea. In fact, he was rather... forceful himself.

"Really?" A dark flush remained on the vixen's muzzle, and her paw drummed idly on her thigh as she appeared lost in deep contemplation. "More... assertive, be direct." She mumbled to herself, almost as if she was reiterating a summary after a college lecture. The lynx would not have been astonished if she suddenly pulled out a notepad to start jotting down notes.

Miyu smiled at that. It was irrefutably cute, in a helpless schoolgirl kind of way. She doubted Krystal would ever summon up the initiative to take charge in their relationship, boldness had never been the female fox's strength. At the least, she would need help, and perhaps a little bit of advice.

But she'd need a few drinks in her gut before she would be comfortable enough with the topic to offer any kind of guidance.

Thankfully, it looked like that prospect would come around sooner rather than later as the lynx watched Fox stop in front of a large building at the end of the street, the neon sign and bright lights surrounding it shinning bright in the late evening dusk. The crowds had also lessened considerably, which was something they were all grateful for.

This place was near the edge of the megacity's first and primary habitation block, a few zones between the civilian neighborhoods and one of the many military instillations dotted about the colossal capital's expanse. The multitudes that usually frequented this area code were mostly comprised of military personnel and their families. There was even a housing district on the other side of the street that spanned across several little happy suburbia's, stretching on for miles in a wide circumference.

The CDF's willingness to accommodate the relations of their armed forces was a source of respect for the organization in her eyes. She had learned in the history books back in school that the last military administration had not exactly favored the idea. But General Pepper and his predecessor, General O'Neil had changed the rulebook once they had come into power. Most people argued they were the pioneers for the new sense of deference that people had for the military.

Miyu thought of this as she rolled Krystal to a stop just outside the entrance for the "officer's club". While at first the place had traces its roots to such an establishment, after some time the rules had slackened to accept just about anyone that had any sort of connection to the CDF. Last time she was here, she had encountered a grocer that catered to the military families in the neighborhood nearby. Nice kid, a little overwhelmed at the time, but he had been a rather funny guy.

"Alright guys, who's ready to party?" Fox asked excitedly, the vulpine's tail swaying to and fro with all the inherent enthusiasm of its master as he bounced in place. The sight was comical enough to elicit a giggle from both Miyu and Krystal as they took in the severe and somber countenance of the towering spartan standing beside Fox, the exact opposite of the impulsive vulpine as he stood at rigid attention. However the spartan did alleviate his outward antipathy with an exceedingly tiny smile, nothing more than a slight upwards curl to his lips as he took in the bubbling fervor of his comrade.

"Yeah, let's get it on!" Katt was the first to answer as the feline yowled, pumping her fist violently as she all but buzzed with eagerness. 'First round's on me!" She was glad to be back with her friends after a year on her own and could hardly wait to get started. It had been too long since they last had a night like this, and she wanted to ensure no one would forget it.

'Y-yeah, let's do this!" Slippy was able to conceal his stutter behind a front of confidence. Though he was not usually up for the team's exploits, he was feeling particularly bold today. At his side Fay offered her own agreement as she slapped the toad on his back.

Falco unsurprisingly, offered a simple shrug and nothing else.

"Dear me... here we go again. I hope no one brought fur clippers this time around." Peppy sighed in reluctance, his comment causing Miyu to chuckle in embarrassment.

"Come on, that was one time! And I thought we all agreed to never talk about it again?"

"Talk about what? What's this about buzzers?" Katt raised a clueless paw, looking towards the varying expressions of amusement and despair as Fox brushed a protective paw over the strip of cream fur that ran across the top of his head.

"I made sure anything like that was left behind, though I will never understand how she had them in the first place."

"She? Who's she, what the heck are you guys talking about?" Katt's confusion escalated as it seemed everyone except for herself and Six judging by the spartan's blank face, was keyed in to the conversation.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you when we get inside." Krystal whispered with a conspiratorial wink to the pink feline.

"Nope, not on my watch." Miyu declared, grabbing the handles of the vixen's wheelchair and hurriedly speeding her inside before anyone could say anything else.

Chuckling, Fox raced inside after the pair calling out for them to stop, soon followed by the rest of the team, leaving Six standing alone on the sidewalk. The spartan glanced towards the hastily abandoned pavement, then the doors themselves before shrugging and moving to follow with an inaudible muttering.


	30. Fame, Fortune, and Futility Part 2

Chapter 28: Fame, Fortune, and Futility Part 2

In his life Six had never entered a bar, at least not of the like he had heard in passing description, not the officer's mess on a starship nor the varying pubs scattered across every human world in the galaxy, if anything it would have sounded like the start of a bad joke. He never had reason to visit such institutions, nor had he ever found himself in a position that forced such circumstance upon him.

Till today that is.

As the tinted glass door shut behind him, the spartan's eyes roved across the entryway, examining in detail what was the first, proper bar he had ever entered as he intended to glean anything he could from this first experience.

A lofty arch of marble vaulted above him, the bright white stonework surprisingly artful given the few musings he had heard about such locations. Matching the glossy wooden paneling of the walls and red velvet carpet leading towards the second layer of interior doors, he was somewhat startled to see such refined taste in a place he had only heard crude things about. Perhaps a cornerian's and human's idea of a bar were different? He had expected a small homely place like the one Fox had taken him to, or a dark, gritty environment full of shady characters. This seemed far too elegant to be what the marines had talked about.

Temporarily shifting away from idle reflection, Six looked towards his team, the group of unusually rowdy individuals moving for the next set of doors as they spoke animatedly amongst themselves. Six followed after hesitantly, suddenly put-off by his crew's sprightly demeanor. As if a switch had flipped in their heads, the team was acting far more animated than he had ever seen them, exchanging crude banter and vigorous elbow bashing.

The spartan found his steps faltering till he stood halfway between the front door and the next pair, another marble archway looming overhead as he was mentally trying to process this strange revision in their personalities. Was this merely a direct response to their environment? Or had they always been this way and he had been too blind to see it? The fact they were like this did not bother Six so much as that he was not like them.

In that moment he felt even more aware of his differences to the team, how alien he was to them, and to an extent, the rest of these people. The stares he had felt burning into his neck, the way he towered over even the tallest one of them, the incomprehension he felt in nearly every conversation, it was a constant, ever present reminder that he was not and never would be anything but that what he had been made to be.

That was what he felt despite the knowledge that the only thing that prevented him from being anything else was himself. It was difficult to recognize this fact, even more so to change his perception on the matter. But he swore he would try, so try he would, the spartan compressing his worries into a ball and shoving them deep down till they were no longer a part of his cognizance.

Oddly enough, his recollection of his encounter with Miyu in the feline's room appeared in the forefront of his thoughts, offering him comfort despite the unusual nature of their interaction, or maybe... because of it.

He had not fought so desperately to reach this point, nearly lose one of the few people he truly esteemed, to surrender to despair now, not after all he had endured. There was far too much he could do, could experience, for him to cast it all aside on baseless fears.

The entire situation was strange, that was not in dispute, though he found himself looking forward to the night despite his misgivings. Perhaps it was time that he enjoyed himself, to let his guard down enough to appreciate the distinctiveness and excitement of his new life.

"Hey Six, you coming dude?"

The spartan turned away from his involuntarily profound examination of the marble archway, seeing Fox and the rest of his team clustered around the closed doors leading deeper into the tavern. The man realized that he had been in introspection for several minutes, and that they had been waiting for him to follow after.

Nodding apologetically, the spartan removed his hand from the cool stone. "Yes I... I'm coming." He answered softly.

"Great, wouldn't really be a party without you." The vulpine's muzzle split into a broad grin, the action alleviating a minor portion of the discomfort Six felt as he quickly moved to join them by the doors.

Stopping next to Fox, he watched as the tod inhaled deeply and shook his head, patting his clothes down in a last minute effort to look presentable. "If we're all ready?" He inquired, the rest of the group mimicking his actions to varying extents as they primed themselves to walk inside.

Six was confused at their seemingly unnecessary efforts as he stood in wait. His confusion was only brief as he shrugged internally and cited this instance as just another peculiarity of society that was beyond his understanding.

"Awesome, let's do this!" Fox declared with an excited shout as he placed his paws firmly upon the doors and flung them wide. As soon as they pulled apart Six was assailed by a harshness of sound like that of his experience outside of Miyu's room, though this particularly tune appeared even stranger in origin, the music heavily influenced by electronic distortion, the spartan feeling the song in the soles of his boots with each thunderous reverberation.

The entire team laughing eagerly in front of him, the spartan saw little choice but to follow behind them. Though the sounds assaulting his hearing were not exactly tailored to his interest, Six decided to offer it the benefit of the doubt, mostly in the form of disregarding it in favor of examining his surroundings as he tailed his group deeper into the den of blaring music and flashing lights.

Even without his MJOLNIR's polarizing visor he was able to easily discern the environment through the strobing flares of well-placed light fixtures and the dim shadows of the less vibrant areas within. He was unsurprised to see a second floor ringing the inner edge of the building, having supposed there would be one given the large nature of the structure from the outside. He was surprised however, to see such a plentitude of individuals crowding nearly every centimeter of the bar itself.

Various tables and chairs full to bursting with patrons lined the circumference of the first floor, a sunken rectangular pit resting at the center of the action was packed with writhing bodies that bumped shoulders, elbows, and... various other appendages as they seemed to move to the beat. Fervent shouts and howls filtered through the air whenever the music lowered enough for them to be heard.

It was as if the entire building was... alive.

Six had never in the totality of his existence ever seen something like this before. It defied every poorly conceived expectation he had held and for a brief instant nearly turned him catatonic under the extreme levels of stimulation.

On instinct he reached for his sidearm, the flashing lights and screams from the crowds filling his mind with flashes of New Alexandria as he impulsively prepared to scan for threats, already searching for the closest Covenant soldier as he tried to identify the nearest piece of viable cover from plasma rounds or crystalline shards.

A voice beside him broke through his hysteria and offered a second of clarity, the spartan realizing that his fight on Reach had ended long ago, that there were no Covenant warriors to fight, and that he had been about to make a colossal fool of himself.

"Come on Six, if we don't move soon we'll lose the others." Fay spoke beside him as she gently grabbed his elbow and began to guide him through the masses. The spartan, still processing his actions, mutely followed after her like an animal on a leash.

A few moments later and he found himself raising his voice till he could be heard over the din of the crowd dancing around them. "Thank you." He growled weakly, eyeing the snowy canine with an earnest appreciation, the female dog's dark brown outfit dully reflecting the sporadic explosions of light around them.

"Don't stress about it Six, I had a feeling you might have been a little overwhelmed before we even walked inside. After my mother came back from the war she was like this sometimes, though it was the fireworks on VC day that really set her off." The female waived his appreciation off with a kindly understanding. "So don't worry about it, shit happens."

Contemplating what she had told him, the spartan refrained from speaking till they had crossed the dance pit and up the steps to the less active section of the bar. Clustered around a counter backlit by a vibrant blue hue and a dark furred canine manning the station, the rest of the team could be seen ordering their drinks. Letting go of his arm, the female took the lead and rejoined the group, elbowing Fox viciously once she was sure no one else would see it as she whispered something scathing into his ear.

The vulpine's expression darkened as a pink flush rose into existence, emerald eyes turning to Six apologetically.

Sensing what was about to come the spartan forestalled the apology with a raised hand and instead uttered a terse sentence to the barkeep, a bottle of whiskey and a shotglass swiftly appearing onto the bar top before absconding into the human's arms as he indifferently deposited a handful of credit chits onto the counter. Though liquor and other such substances had little to no effect on him in anything less than an obscene dosage, he had come to enjoy this particular alcohol for its flavor and strong taste rather than its mind altering capabilities.

Somewhat remittent in his realization that he had fundamentally abandoned the spartan not seconds after they had entered, Fox silently gestured towards one of the few unoccupied tables located in the far, far back of the room, these particular tables set away from the nosier and more unruly patrons behind a few muffling curtains.

Once inside the velveteen barrier, Six watched as the rest of the party slid into the semicircular, padded bench recessed into a carved out section of the wall, setting down their various drinks as they made themselves comfortable.

The human soldier paused in front of the booth, needing an encouraging look from the vixen who Miyu had wheeled up to the tabletop, before he took the initiative to find a place for himself as well beside the lynx, the feline grinning playfully at him as she coiled her tail in his lap. Unlike previous, the action did not bother him any longer, the spartan merely smiling back at her, albeit in a less vivacious manner. 

There was a transitory moment of mild silence as the team talked quietly amongst each other, though the conversations slowly rose in volume and enthusiasm as it intertwined until they were all engaged in some grand hybridized discourse of intermingled subjects and interchangeable topics.

In this time Six remained mostly quiet, choosing only to respond to direct inquires and pointed questions as he basked in the overall tone of comradery displayed by his companions. Six had never been much for public speaking, certainly not in any form of company exceeding more than a few individuals. But unlike the usual instances in the past when he had been forced to listen to the idle banter of marines and even Noble team, he found a vast increase in both enjoyment of the people present and in listening to the topics themselves. At one point he had even achieved a new form of laughter, what was louder and more mirthful than the rare chuckles he released on infrequent occasion as he and Katt were finally let in on the tragic incident of when Fox lost his signature haircut, and most of the fur on his scalp, as a direct result of Miyu's over-intoxication.

He did feel some strange sensation once the team began to reminisce over past exploits he had never been part of, though such peculiar sentiment did not last long as he swiftly banished it away. It was foolish to concern himself with the bygone history when he had more than he could ever want for or need now.

At some point as the more rowdy discussions died down and they slipped into more subdued dialogue, Six found himself looking towards Krystal as the vixen spoke with Katt about some of hers and his most recent exploits. As he looked onto the vixen, her azure fur as shinning and lustrous as her wonderful, gentle personality and melodious voice, a soft smile turned the otherwise perpetual grimace upon his lips. His eyes roved across the entire table to study each of the individuals he had come to call close friends... even family, Fox and Falco battering away at each other with their usual, almost rehearsed sense of rivalry, Fay, Slippy, and even Miyu chattering about some inane topic that utterly escaped his understanding, and Peppy, perhaps one of the most perceptive individuals amongst them other than the vixen, one of two women to whom which his heart belonged to, was spending his time watching over the crew much like the spartan himself.

All his life Six had never ever thought to even hope to believe that he might find such people, individuals who had not only accepted him with open arms, but disregarded his previous manner of pushing others away and quite literally forced themselves upon him in a desire to make him feel welcomed. And here... he had found them, and he had not even been looking.

A raw overawing surge of emotions struck him suddenly, and it felt as if the spartan's heart had simply ceased to beat for a breathless few moments. His hands closing tightly of their own accord as he tried to ride out the sudden wave of sentiment with a hitching of his breath and a feeling of furry warmth in his left hand.

In his befuddled state of mind he was momentarily confused at this, till he remembered that Miyu had been holding onto him for some time, and he turned to the feline apologetically knowing that he must have caused her pain with such a tense grip.

His moments of unawareness concealed that the female cat had turned towards him with an expression that was more alarmed than pained, and the spartan was confused till she brought her other paw up to brush underneath his eyelid, her furred thumb coming away damp with liquid.

Feeling somewhat vulnerable and embarrassed, the spartan felt an awkward chuckle surface of its own volition in some unconscious attempt by his body to combat these rogue sensations.

"What's wrong?" She mumbled softly, her quiet tone private enough to be heard by only the two of them as her eyes emanated nothing but warmth and concern. Such a cloistered conversation was easy given the pervasive volume of their environment.

In answer he shook his head in denial and spoke in an equally reserved baritone. "Nothing, just... pondering some thoughts. I had never really thought I would ever experience this in my life, companionship and purpose, that is, at least in a format tailored in pursuits that did not portend for war. You, Krystal, this team, are all more than I could have ever anticipated or hoped for. And I think I just realized this."

"Well, I'm glad we over exceeded your anticipations, you certainly did mine." She chuckled throatily as she took a deep draft from her glass before setting it back down with a muted clink. The feline leaned into his chest, the scent of fruit and alcohol saturating her breath, but not in an unpleasant way as she rested the back of her head in the crook of his neck, a long ear brushing against either cheek. Miyu released a faint, but noticeable purr from within her breast as her eyes glanced up to him, golden orbs with vertically split pupils peering deep into his own as they glowed softly in the light. "All my life, I had thought I would never meet a male like you, kind, truthful, understanding and compassionate, and indeed for a while I wondered if you possessed any of those traits. But the day I met you, something just... clicked, in my head. And I knew that there was something different about you, something I liked."

Her spine shifted against his chest and he watched as the feline extended her muzzle and pressed her lips in a soft kiss against the skin of his neck, a mischievous grin splitting wide across her visage as her eyes were lit a glow with implicit craving. "If we were not here right now, I would show just how much of you I like." She whispered huskily as she brushed a salaciously guided paw across his thigh.

Six felt the muscles in his abdomen clench as a sudden and inexplicable heat pulled to the fore on his cheeks, the spartan caught off-guard by the intensity and direct nature of her intentions, even more so at how welcoming he found the proposition. He was startled to find that the prospects of spending more intimate time with Miyu was not only interesting, but that he might even look forward to it.

However his inflamed longing was cooled as his eyes met Krystal's, the vixen looking to the both of them and their intimate position uncertainly. A pang of unexpected and incomprehensible guilt hit his gut like the unstoppable force of a hunter's tower shield, the spartan unclear as to why he felt such a way.

Miyu seemed to notice the change in his disposition and followed his gaze, the feline stiffening moments later, both of them staring tentatively back at the female fox.

Krystal's expression seemed to undergo a series of varying and rapid fluctuations, before finally settling on one of cautious optimism as she smiled softly at the both of them, that action alone doing much to assuage the strange and uncomfortable pull in his stomach. It also seemed to have a similar effect on Miyu who giggled girlishly and flashed the vixen a happy thumbs up.

Yet Six had already been put off the subject, though he did not pull away from Miyu's closeness as he propositioned that they change the topic as he refilled his shotglass. The spartan allowed himself to settle comfortably into his seat, dropping his guard a fraction more, though his eyes continued their occasional check of the surrounding environment and scanning for any viable threats.

A part of him was waiting for fate to ruin this unusual moment of amity as it was like to do from personal experience. Yet as minutes passed, nothing happened, and he wondered at his unusual luck.

This was... nice, a pleasant evening amongst friends was still new to him, the manners of which his companions civilianized something to be studied for personal comprehension. So far he decided that it was better than battling through warzones, if only slightly less so. He had been bred to fight, and while he did not seek unnecessary conflict, it was hard to dislike what he had been created for. His desire for battle would in all probability never cease to be a part of him, but he understood now that he need not let it control him. He was more than the entirety of his parts, a spartan, and yet now, so much more than that.

He was Noble Six, a man who had lost everything and everyone he had ever known or cared for, bred to fight an impossible war and surmount suicidal odds. He had abandoned his humanity in his pursuits to fight and survive, disregarding all that likened him to his fellow man in order to seek levels of strength and willpower surpassing that of any un-augmented person could ever be capable of. He had made untold sacrifices, both internally and externally, to become who he was today.

He was also human, imperfect, mortal, and more than capable of error. Despite all his herculean strength and unflinching resolve, he was still very much finite. He had limits physical and physiological, and vulnerability centered on the ordinary failings of man. But, those things did not matter, not after he had gained all that had once been stolen from him, he had a family, friends, people that loved him, well and truly for not what he was, but who he was. Although these things were not and never would be the same to that which he had lost.

Perhaps it was better this way.

He was Noble Six, and he had at last found his home.

 

*****

 

Fox could not shake the persistent sense of optimism he felt for the auspiciousness of the night thus far. It was all panning out better than even his most hopeful projections. Six had even laughed, a loud, nearly vigorous chortle that sounded so utterly unlike him yet made the vulpine smile all the more. The human had also been rather familiar with Miyu, which was reasonably out of the ordinary for him considering his typical standoffishness, and the feline looked entirely elated by the experience.

There however was something that still troubled him.

The vulpine glanced at his comms bracer, having been counting down the minutes until his fiancé would arrive. She had promised to meet him at this particular booth at a quarter till nine, this one being a specific favorite for them on their frequent rendezvous here. His worry lay not in that she and Six would clash, rather that she might form an unfair opinion of him as a result of his occasional, yet increasingly infrequent... irritability. Like Katt, Fara remained oblivious to the spartan's background, what contributed heavily towards his violent and sometimes unreasonable temperament. Though he had changed significantly since his first days amongst them, he was still rather overbearing at times.

If she did not like him... well Fox hoped it wouldn't come to that. Fara could be nearly as obstinate as Six himself when she set her mind to it, and the vulpine did not anticipate what might occur if they butted heads. For one he worried over her personal safety, the spartan was substantially superior in terms of both physical strength and tactical acumen. And while he had never hurt any member of the team regardless of his ire, she was not someone he would yet regard as friend, and Fox had seen what the supersoldier did to those not included in his infinitesimal bubble of influence.

As long as he still had a few minutes, he might be able to talk to Six and clear some thi-.

"Hey Foxy, I hope I'm not late to the party."

His hopes were shot to the ground as the vulpine's ears picked up the wonderful, yet ill-timed vocals of his fiancé. Grinning and hoping it did not come off as too forceful, he turned to receive his betrothed, a strange oxymoronic combination of elation and dread warring so violently in his stomach that he felt the oncoming's of some form of sickness.

"Hey honey, you're a little early actually." He answered as he deftly removed himself from the booth with only some minor grumbling from the others as they were displaced momentarily. Fox approached the fennec vixen and swept her into a tight embrace, his nose inhaling the welcoming familiarity of her scent as he leaned back to see her smile. It was clear to him why she was early, the female still garbed in her flight jumpsuit and smelling of a cockpit, artificial leather and oiled steel. Yet that did little to detract from her wonderfulness as he held her tight for a few moments longer before reluctantly parting from her touch.

 

"I'm glad you're here, now the gang is complete, he turned back to gesture towards Katt who waived awkwardly in kind. "As you can see we managed to dredge up the errant member of our crew." Fara and Katt knew each other, just as she knew everyone from the team, but the feline was still somewhat embarrassed by her most recent exploits.

"You also have one extra." The fennec vixen's keen perception and remarkable memory ensured that she had not forgotten Fox's conversations with her on their most recent acquisition, as if it was all that difficult to not notice the largest person in the entire building.

"Yes... we do." Fox admitted with such a faint note of hesitation that no one but the spartan had noticed. "That there is Six, as you'll remember he's the guy I've been talking about."

In a way that unsettled him, Fara stood in silence briefly before she stepped past him to cross the distance between her and the human supersoldier as he similarly extracted himself from the table to meet her in kind. The vixen stopped just before him, her stature placing her barely above his pectorals as the spartan stared down at her silently. In that moment Fox watched as her eyes widened considerably, perhaps fully realizing how large and alien the male truly was as she took an instinctive and slight step backwards, what a feral hunter might do when coming face to face with a bigger predator.

An uneasy silence descended upon the party, and both Krystal and Miyu's ears splayed back defensively as they appeared ready to spring to their human's aid should hostilities unexpectedly spring forth into reality.

"Miss Fara Phoenix, it is a great pleasure to meet the fiancé of one of my most trusted friends." Surprisingly soft and unthreatening, Fox was amazed to hear the uncontested kindness and deference in the spartan's tone as he inclined his head in respect, extending one hand out. It was clear to Fox that the human warrior was extending himself past his comfort zone in order to accommodate the vulpine's obvious desire for him to form a good first impression. It was a commendable effort, but the slight, near untraceable note of forced joviality was knowable to a few of them who knew the spartan well enough.

The female fennec did not move for perhaps a second before she surprised the entire group by wrapping the spartan's considerable bulk into her grasp and giggling gleefully as she bounced up and down, turning to Fox with the biggest and most earnest smile that the vulpine had seen from her in a long time. "Dang it Fox, where'd you find this big old dud, he's like a giant ornery teddy bear. I love it!"

At that Fox snickered hysterically as all the stress and unease he felt melted away at the sight that warmed his heart, and even more so at the befuddled hapless grin on Six's once grim expression. "You would not believe where if I told you. Suffice to say it's a"

"Long story!" Fox was momentarily startled as the rest of the party all shouted that out at the same time, earning a round of amused laughter from all but the man in question himself, who merely smiled politely, his visage turning more earnest the moment Fara released him and returned to the vulpine's side at the table where he had made room for her by pushing Falco to the side. The avian squawked indignantly before wandering off, only to return seconds later with a bar stool that he slammed down angrily as he made himself comfortable once more.

"So... long story eh? Any chance I can get the details on that since we have nothing but time?" Fara asked as she looked to both Six and Fox expectantly, her sincere curiosity mirrored in Katt's eyes as the feline hoped to find this out for herself as well.

The vulpine looked to Six for permission, seeing as it was his story, and the spartan simply shrugged his acceptance. As it had been a long time since his arrival, he seemed to have grown less and less severe on his desire to keep that locked away.

"I suppose I can go into the nit and grit of what set me on the path to where I am today, though I hope you are ready. It is neither a brief nor pleasant tale, and that is of course if you chose to believe it, though I do have some data that would prove my allegations." He forewarned as he reached into his pocket and retrieved a data wafer. The soldier popped a side latch on his wrist computer and inserted the chip with a smooth click.

A flash of light filled the air as an airborne holographic burst into existence millimeters above the projector built into the device. Fox and the others watched on in silent curiosity as the spartan's deft digits nimbly maneuvered the interface until it changed, a darker azure tint taking over as images began to coalesce.

 

*****

For the spartan, watching the past, his past, was not as strenuous or upsetting as it had once been. The events he had sifted through and archived in preparation for a scenarios just like the one now, were ones he had experienced and already reviewed for months on end, each purview less disappointing than the last. He was still uncomfortable with letting the team see his life before, knowing that they would be watching, judging his every action and movement. Yet as previous with the dinner that had been sullied by Falco's inquiry, he knew that no oratory exploit, no matter how magnificent and all-encompassing, would ever fully justify what had happened on Reach.

Of all the warzones he had survived, the conflict on Reach was the most intense and prevailing engagement of his career, the full might of humanity had clashed against the fanatical wrath of the Covenant.

And they had been found wanting.

Reach was lost, the united force of human naval power utterly destroyed and scattered to the cosmic wind, the largest host of warriors and vehicles ever assembled butchered and rendered into smoldering wrecks as they opposed the unending might and zealousy of an alien collective.

Six knew not why they were so invested in events that had never nor would be of any significant import to themselves, but he supposed after the months of silent probing and less than successfully hidden curiosity, that perhaps it was about time they witnessed the culminating proceedings that brought him to this world.

 

*****

 

As the interior troop compartment of the pelican shuddered underneath the fusillade of plasma fire vomited forth from the guns of a banshee squadron that had been hounding them since the very moment they exfiltrated from sword base, Six dug his gauntlet into the hull and leveled the barrel of his assault rifle out of the compartment's open ramp to exchange fire, the brief but powerful bellowing of Noble-4's shotgun joining his sonata.

 

But their efforts were merely retaliatory at best, and did little to prevent the blatant doom of their transport. Six clung to the hull as a flurry of plasma bolts filled the interior and he watched in anger as the cockpit was perforated, immediately precipitating Noble-1's signal light as it dulled to deep amber. Priming a fragmentation grenade, Six chucked it out of the pelican, the dented orb lodging into the crux of a banshee's wing before exploding, the Covenant fighter spinning out of control to smash into one other in its flight before hurtling into a rock outcropping with a vicious detonation of purple flame. Tossing Noble-4 his rifle, Six sprinted into the cockpit, watching uncertainly as his commander broke protocol, his damaged helmet dropping to the foot of his seat and rolling down to rest near the spartan's boots.

 

Six frowned upon seeing the shattered visor and blood splattered titanium, leaning into the cockpit to confirm the status of his leader as the team's A.I. attempted to contact Carter.

 

"Not sure how long she's gonna stay together." Noble-1 growled, his visage torn and bleeding and from what Six's status bar for his commander was informing him, such was replicated for the majority of his body. And he knew that his fellow spartan would not be walking away from this. "Skies are jammed up anyway," Carter continued on, oblivious to Six's realization, no doubt already grimly aware of this truth. "Gotta get you off her, Lieutenant."

 

Six knew what that meant.

 

"Sir..."

 

"Don't want to hear it, get the package to the Autumn." Carter cut him off with a firm negative.

 

"Done." "Six affirmed with a steady nod. Too many had died for him to fail now.

 

"Not yet it's not." Noble-1 retorted as he leaned out of his seat with a partially disguised grunt of pain as he turned to the other occupant of the ship who had finally gave the banshee's enough pause to briefly pull away before coming back in on another run. "Emile, go with him. It's a ground game now."

 

The spartan gave his acknowledgment by rapping his gauntlet off his chest harness. They all knew that this was it. There was little time and no place for sentimentality. "It's been an honor Sir."

 

"Likewise... I'll do what I can to draw their fire."

 

As Carter spoke, both able bodied spartans moved to the ramp to disembark, though Six hesitated when Noble-1 addressed him directly. "Six... that A.I. chose you... she made the right choice." His last sentence coming off as a rasp, it was hard for Six to tell if he was being serious, or merely suffering from delirium that directly correlated from extreme blood loss, but he did nod back in confirmation as he stepped to the ramp's edge with Noble-4, eyeing the glowing canister in his gauntlet with what was perhaps newfound appreciation.

 

This was tremendous effort for a single artificial intelligence. There had to be something more to this. Not that it mattered. He'd get the job done, he always did.

 

On Carter's mark, both he and Emile leapt from the pelican, their shields flaring as they slid down a rock face, sparks flying as titanium scoured boulders and other surfaces of stone before they skidded to a stop at the start of a small ravine leading deep into the mountains. Neither spartan bandied words, simply starting off on a brisk jog towards their objective. At the best of times they had never been ones to exchange words of any kind, though they did hold a deep respect for the other. Both knew this was the end of the line, and while it may have been a time for last rites so to speak, they already understood each other well enough.

 

Stopping at the edge of a cliff alongside Noble-4, Six took in the spectacle before them, legions of Covenant infantry scouring every inch of the mountain side as they hunted for something, most likely himself and Emile. It was long odds, but then again, when were they not?

 

With a nod to four, Six shouldered his rifle and slung the canister holding the hopes of humanity upon his thigh as his companion loaded his shotgun. There was not time to waste, and Emile spoke the first and last sentence to pass between them.

 

"Let's get to work."

 

*****

 

 

From there on, Six delegated what his friends would see, modifying the video in the present to both save on time and reduce what he could of the less desirable moments. Within the span of two hours, they had witnessed his and Emile's ferocious assault on the ship breaking yards of Aszod, the ensuing death of Noble-4, and his flight to the Covenant corvette. From there, the video files were corrupted, perhaps due to whatever it was that had taken him to this place, and they only resumed sometime after he had joined the team and he had time to fiddle with the records.

*****

 

 

For Krystal it was uncanny to witness the events leading to the spartan's arrival in the Lylat System from his perspective, what was her second glimpse into the world of his origin. There she saw another member of his past team, a rather frightening and terse individual, much like Six in that regard. She had also beheld his... death, and Six's selfless actions to stay behind to ensure that the package his team had died for would find its destination, whatever that may have been.

Not only this, but it had been disconcerting to see a war being waged on a planet that looked so much like Corneria. Where Beltino's Orbital Gateway stood here, an incomprehensibly massive alien armada loomed over a world of cooling glass, what signified the untold loss of human life. She had only ever once before seen such devastation reflected upon her own people, and the reminder hit her deeply, her thoughts troubled by painful recollection.

Thankfully such aggrieved musing quickly faded as more lighthearted occurrences played out upon the spartan's holographic device, though she was captivated to see what his life had been like a personal perspective. Most of it was truncated for obvious reason, really just a montage of moments they had all experienced together. Though, she had noticed that he had elected to abstain from showing anything of a more intimate viewpoint regarding her, which she was greatly appreciative of. Seeing as he wore his armor nearly every moment he could, they had shared quite a few tender instants that he would have unwittingly chronicled.

As she watched the accumulative exploits of his life amongst the Starfox team flash by in minutes, she wondered, had it really been that long? For her it felt as if weeks had transpired, where the truth of this recording only showed how long he had been a part of her life, their lives. He had fought, bled and laughed, with them, and once, she had known he had cried. They had surmounted the odds and defied death on numerous occasions. They had endured hardships and had strained their connections with one another, and yet through it all, Six had never once faltered.

She was staggered by the sheer weight of his previous life, and that after it all, after everything he had suffered he still persevered, he excelled in his environment despite what challenges sought to circumvent him. 

It was heroic beyond description. Most would have and should have waivered under such extreme stress, yet Six appeared to strive beyond normal limitations in such high pressure situations, with extraordinary adaptability.

And somewhere along the way he had decided that he would stand by her side. To her that would always be a source of comfort, a profound excess of strength that she could draw and rely upon. He had been and always would be there for her.

The vixen looked to him, watching in silent affection as the spartan turned off the projector after closing on a lighter moment he had shared with the team and prepared to answer what must have been the innumerable questions on the minds of not just Fara and Katt, but on the rest of the team as well. For herself, Krystal had no questions that had not already been answered. Miyu though, she smiled at the realization, had plenty of her own, though most were more about his exploits on the field of battle. The lynx had always been a fiery soul, which was what Krystal had known soon after they met for the first time.

However, as she watched her spartan and the feline, she felt an unsolicited sense of unease. The vixen had seen how close they had been earlier, how... intimately they had been poised together. That had been an unforeseen surprise. Six had only just recently come to accept and perhaps even enjoy the touch of a female. They had shared a few gentle moments together in recent days, and every time he became more and more comfortable with the idea. She had hoped to soon broach a more intimate activity they might be able to share with one another, but it seemed Miyu was of a likeminded indication and far more forward with it.

Krystal remembered what the lynx had told her, be more assertive. And from what she had seen tonight, that indeed seem to be most effective. Although that just might be because Miyu was the perfect image of a desirable female that even the vixen could not refute. Sometime ago she had been envious of the feline's... voluptuous figure and strong personality. But that had faded as she developed more confidence in her self-image and they had become close friends. And somewhere, deep down in the innermost depths of her mind, she had once carried a small crush on the other female. After all, she had been everything she herself was not. Strong, confident, and unafraid to speak her mind, kind of like Six.

Though that feeling had long since passed, she still cared for the lynx, despite the feline's irritating tendency to get on her nerves.

Smiling as she turned away from the feline as she harassed Six on the possibility of getting a suit of armor like his, the vixen scanned the rest of the group, watching their conversations amongst each other. Fara was currently trying to get more detailed information out of Fox on Six, and Falco seemed to just be nursing his drink in silence as Peppy tapped away at a datapad for some unknown purpose. Katt and Fay were mumbling conspiratorially, their topic veiled from even her impressive hearing. Slippy, the poor toad, was stuck awkwardly between Falco and Peppy, though he appeared content as he watched the team much like herself. The vixen shared a smile with him and waived at the amphibian as he tapped the table and took a sip from his juice.

Her thoughts drifting away in the serenity of her disposition and content for her current position, Krystal picked up on the faint beat of the music coming from the club past the partially extended curtains. If she had function of her legs, the vixen had no doubt her sandals would be tapping to the undeniably appealing melody. As it were, her tail was happy enough to twitch in tune to the song as she hummed the lyrics to herself.

If every day could be like today, than she would never ask for anything more in life. There was no prevailing threat demanding their attention, the entire team was together and enjoying a much needed night of fun and relaxation, and she was starting to feel a pleasant buzz from her drink that influenced her thoughts with an undercurrent of bliss.

Though as her glass clinked empty, the vixen lamented this insight and sought to order another glass of blueberry vodka. She turned her chair around and placed her paws on the wheel, ready to roll herself down to the bar when she noticed that there were already a few individuals there. That alone would not have been surprising except for the fact she knew the trio, quite well in fact.

Even in her currently tipsy temperament, she still felt a jolt of unease at recognizing the peculiar characters, and turned to Fox with a frown. The vulpine however, already appeared to have noticed as a grimace split the smile he once had on his muzzle as he growled low, in the back of his throat. All at once a cloud of disquiet seemed to fall upon the crew as they looked to the bar.

Sensing the shift in his commander and the overall mood, Six's arm dropped underneath the table, undoubtedly clutched tightly around the grip of a handgun as the three individuals took their drinks and made a path towards them.

A barking chuckle filled the air as the leader of the small group stopped a few feet from the table, a look of utter satisfaction plastered on his blemished visage as he appeared wholly pleased with this development.

"Fox, what a surprise! Been a long time since we last crossed paths, the battle over Eladard was it?" The lupine inquired with jovial intent. "Looks like you've done fine for yourself since then, expanded your roster as well from the looks of it." The male looked to the human supersoldier with a flash of consideration and... respect? "I heard all kinds of things about that."

The low growl from Fox only rose to prominence as he stood up from the table, emerald eyes blazing with scarcely suppressed anger. "Wolf, what the hell are you doing here?"

The lupine looked both confused and askance as he brought a paw to his chest in mock outcry. "What, a guy can't spend a night out to party with his friends?"

At that, Fara stood up beside Fox, a fierce snarl pulling at her hackles. "Last I heard, you were still wanted by the General for war profiteering."

"Oh that bit?" Wolf chuckled, waiving it off with cool disinterest. "I was pardoned for that a few weeks ago by the big dog himself. Didn't you know...?" He reached into his coat and pulled out a rolled up paper and a small insignia with the CDF emblem printed in steel. "I've been employed." The shear arrogance and conceit radiated from the lupine and his smug expression as he flashed a devious grin full of pointed canines, infuriated Fox to no end. "In fact, we've all been employed by the army, even Panther." He gestured towards the less than successful feline pilot next to him who whined softly.

"Panther does not like it when you make fun of him."

"Hey, it's all in good fun." Wolf retorted, flashing the vulpine a self-satisfied grin.

Fox discovered that his mouth could not move to form words, unable to believe what he had just been told. Pepper had exonerated him? He would wonder if the General had forgotten the extent of Wolf's actions if he had not known the aged canine to possess a near perfect recollection. That lupine had attacked Starfox on numerous occasions, not only that, but he had worked with Andross, though not in any significant capacity that would place them on equal grounds for castigation. Perhaps there was a reason, some method for this insanity? Despite his loathing, Fox recognized that Wolf was a talented mercenary, much like himself. Was the General simply thinking long term? Wolf would be useful if the aparoids did attack. Did Pepper just believe he would be more help standing with them, then against? If so, the dog had a greater ability to forgive past misdeeds than himself.

Thankfully, while Fox was far too preoccupied to form a retaliatory rebuttal, a certain feline was more than happy enough to fill the gap.

"I find it hard to believe that Pepper would absolve you of your crimes." Miyu growled, the lynx fidgeting in her seat like a loaded spring ready to explode into action at the first inclination of a fight.

In reply the lupine shrugged. "Hey sweet cheeks, I was surprised myself when the old dog sent me a message to come in. Where I thought it was a trap, he just offered me a chance to work off my... debts so to speak. And what's better, we still get paid!" He chuckled at his own good fortune, though it faded rapidly in favor of an unusual solemnity from him.

The lupine sighed. "Look, all jokes and bantering aside, when I saw you guys here I actually had loftier intentions than just coming around to ruffle some feathers."

The startlingly sincerity in Wolf's tone was enough for Fox to look to him with a second reevaluation, and the vulpine noticed he looked... tired... broken, unlike the self-assured arrogance he carried last time they had talked, as if he bore the weight of some great secret upon his shoulder's. That gave Fox pause. Did... did he know the truth? Had Pepper told him what they might face and what the stakes might be?

"I came over here to start mending some bridges that I admittedly had a lot of fun burning. But as you've probably noticed, times are changing. The war is over, for real this time, and the true mercenary lifestyle just isn't sustainable anymore, not for me and not for my crew. So if we have to make our bed with anybody, I'd rather it be with the CDF." The lupine grimaced as he took a step forward, an expression of utter reluctance upon his muzzle as he extended a paw out to Fox.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... new beginning?"

Fox looked to the outstretched paw, a myriad of emotions running their course through him. Could he forgive Wolf for everything he had done? In all probability? No. But, he would work with the lupine if it meant they would have a greater chance to survive in the future. He would accept, for Fara, for everyone he ever cared about. So, with a mirroring disinclination, he grasped Wolf's paw and nodded.

"Deal." He muttered.

A smile, less haughty and condescending than usual, struck the lupine as he chuckled. "Excellent, glad we could see eye to eye. I think it'd be interesting to play on the same side of the field with you Fox. Do you mind if we..." Wolf gestured to the table. "Everywhere else is full."

Fox frowned, but the nice guy in him could not stop from saying...

"Sure."

Wolf nodded. "Right then... before we get settled in." The lupine turned away from Fox, his violet eyes stopping on Six, who had yet to drop his guard since the conversation started. "I would like to talk you my friend... alone." 

The mood shifted for the group once more, a perturbed air falling over the table in a heavy cloud. Krystal and Miyu looked to the spartan uncertainly, no doubt in concern for him, as if the supersoldier needed to be worried over. Even Fox felt disquiet, and troubled that Wolf sought Six out specifically. Yet before anyone could say anything the human deftly extracted himself from the table and mutely gestured for Wolf to follow him, all eyes focused on the odd pair as they headed towards the bar.

Though, not long after a voice broke the silence.

"Seeing as he is no longer at odds, Panther was hoping to perhaps break the ice. After all, Panther has been struck frozen by the presence of such beautiful females."

Then without warning the table erupted into various groans and reluctant chuckles.

 

********

 

Six maneuvered through the scattered tables of patrons to take a seat at the bar top, sliding onto a stool as he turned to study the lupine who had requested a one-on-one dialogue with him. He knew some of Wolf, had read up on the man a few times during his analyses of the system history. But it was not enough for him to extrapolate why he would want to speak with him.

Confused but wary, the spartan was silent as Wolf took a seat beside him, the lupine ordering a drink for both himself and Six, turning to the human as the bartender wandered off to fulfill the request.

"I bet you're wondering right now... why the hell would this mutt want to talk with me?" He inquired with a shark-like grin that was near enough to unsettle the spartan.

"I would not phrase it like that... but yes." Six admitted with a shrug.

Wolf chuckled, a sharp glint of amusement lying in his visible violet eye. "Yeah, wouldn't blame you for being understandably suspicious. I'm sure Fox had practically filled your head with all manners of stories about me and my crew by now." He waived a paw about the air condescendingly "And admittedly for the most part... he would be right. But that's neither here nor there. I didn't ask to speak with you privately about that. I don't mind it to be truthful. I wanted to talk with you because simply put... you intrigue me, Six."

The lupine paused for a moment as their drinks were placed down, whiskey as well from the look of it. "I've heard quite a lot about you my friend. After all working with the CDF does have its benefits. A lot of what they declassified about you didn't even compare to the truth. So I wanted to meet a guy who could single handedly infiltrate and destroy an entire venomian military compound, take down an asteroid instillation with only two others, and generally fuck up any dumb asshole imprudent enough to cross your way. And I wanted to ask him..."

Wolf paused, his tone and demeanor growing suddenly serious.

"Why in the hell are you working for a guy like Fox?"

Perplexed by the unexpected question, Six did not respond for a few moments. When he did it was with more curiosity than anger.

"Why does that matter to you?"

 

"It matters Six my friend," The lupine answered with a furred digit leveraged against him accusingly. "Because you're squandering your potential with him, I mean seriously, you're a goddamn monster, and I don't mean of the movie variety. I've seen flight recordings of the battle over this very planet when that dumbass Oikonny picked the wrong day to make his uncle proud. You must have earned at least seventy confirmed kills in the skirmish alone. That's more than most squadrons receive on an entire campaign. And I've heard the stories out of Fortuna, I mean taking down a venomian behemoth heavy tank with nothing but a goddamn grenade and a fucking knife... a fucking knife! That's unbelievable! And I would have called bullshit right there if the CDF didn't have the footage. That thing hit you right on, right through that shield, which was a freaking bunker door, and damn near didn't make a scratch on ya considering it would have atomized any normal person on the spot."

Six frowned. He had not realized that the CDF had such an extensive archive of his exploits, the portents for that were... unsettling.

"You're a perfect killer by every definition of the word, ruthless, pitiless, unopposable... and to be honest, I'm not sure there's anything in this universe that can stop you. So to reiterate my previous point, what the hell is such a damn good warrior like you working for a peaceable guy like Fox? With skills like that you could have gone anywhere, done anything. Hell I'd ask you to join my crew if I didn't already know that you had a few... remarkable individuals tying you down. I know the looks those two gave you. And damn, can't say I blame you for staying for some tail like that." Wolf cast an appraising eye towards two of the table's occupants.

A crystalline fracture split the glass in Six's hand as he growled, a fierce snarl marring his expression. "It is in your best interest if you never speak like that of them again."

Wolf immediately raised his paws defensively, a slight peel of laughter pulling at the lupine's muzzle. "Whoa there tiger, settle down! Didn't mean any harm friend, sometimes my mouth just gets ahead of my brain is all. I promise I'll be nothing but polite to you and yours."

Six glared at the male a few moments longer before nodding in approval, his hand under the table releasing the corrugated grip of the handgun secured within its holster. "You would do well to remember that, Wolf. I shall ensure that you keep your word." The spartan would not stand idle for anyone or anything that threatened his family. If Wolf or his associates possessed ill intentions for Miyu, Krystal, or anyone from Starfox, Six would punch a round through his skull without hesitation.

"Of course, I do have some morals though Fox believes otherwise. I would never do anything like what you're probably thinking." The lupine sighed as he realized that the goal of this conversation was listing to stern like a cored battleship. "Look Six, I just wanted to get on a good standing with you. I've been around this world long enough to know the signs of a storm. And I'll tell you, one's coming. I don't know when or where it will start. But when that tempest comes raging, I'd prefer it if I had you as an ally, not an adversary."

Six was partially unconvinced that was the extent of the lupine's motives, but he could respect that Wolf had sought him out and been mostly straightforward with his objectives. Fox may have held him in bad esteem, but Six would give Wolf the benefit of the doubt, as Starfox had done for him.

Nodding austerely, Six extended his hand. "If you wish to be allies and your aims are honorable, than allies we shall be." 

 

Wolf was not entirely successful in disguising a satisfied grin as he chuckled and vigorously shook the spartan's offered limb. "I'm damn glad to hear that, if you ever need something from me, let me know." The lupine slipped him a small data wafer with what the spartan presumed was his contact information. "Well then I'll see you around." Swiftly jumping from his seat, the lupine left to return to the table, Six watching as he walked away.

The spartan remained at the bar, contemplating Wolf's words.

It was true, a storm was coming, and the spartan intended to be ready for it.

 

*****

 

Fox was uncertain and nervous as he watched Wolf shake hands with Six and make his way back to the table, not even Fara's comforting paw upon his shoulder was enough to shake the feeling of disquiet. He would give all the earnings of his last mission to have been able to hear what they had been discussing, what the reason was Wolf sought to speak with Six alone. It gnawed at him incessantly that he did not know.

They had shaken hands.

They had made a deal about something.

And whatever it was...

Six had agreed to it. 

This fact above all others was what unsettled him the most. He knew Six to be an intensely pragmatic and speculative individual. The spartan would have put no minor portion of thought into what was being said. But what exactly had been said? Or perhaps he was just paranoid and they had merely shook hands in farewell. Yet Fox found that to be terribly unlikely.

In any case he eyed Wolf with suspicion as the lupine arrived back at the table, turning to his two associates, who had been rather amiable give their past history with each other, though Panther's flirting was getting on the nerves of every female present. Thankfully, the feline was harmless and at least polite with his anodyne admiration.

"Leon, Panther, let's get rolling. See you later Starfox." As expected, Wolf did not place much charm in his leave-takings, and both his companions were quick to remove themselves from the table and follow after their commander, not without a few parting platitudes from Panther of course.

Fox was just glad Six had not heard any of the feline's philandering, or the spartan may have just been liable to kill him on the spot, which the cat didn't deserve, as annoying as he could be. Barely recognizing Wolf's farewell, Fox instead eyed the spartan who had remained at the bar, concerned that he had not directly returned to the crew.

He could see it in Krystal and Miyu as well.

They were worried.

That worry lasted for near half an hour before the spartan finally removed himself from his chair and made to return to the group, quickly returning to his seat beside Miyu as fairly normal conversation resumed. Though Fox wished to, he did not inquiry as to what the human and lupine had discussed, trusting that whatever it was would not change the spartan in anyway.

Ultimately, as time continued to pass and the team delved further and further into their revelries, Fox let his musing go and instead decided to enjoy the night. After all, the company was desirable, the drinks were flowing, and nothing else would get in the way of their fun.

Yet despite that everyone else was fairly along in their drinking, Six remained visibly unaffected by the near staggering amount of alcohol he had imbibed. Two or three empty bottles of whiskey stood at attention beside the spartan, Fox couldn't quite tell at this point how many there were, things were starting to get a little hazy. This would have impressed Fox if not for the fact he didn't quite have the processing power to make a note of it.

At some point Falco wandered off, saying something about finding a dragon to slay... lay? Whatever that meant. Slippy soon departed as well, taking Fay and Katt with him as they decided to return to the ship, the canine amongst them muttering something about not kitsitting Miyu this time. Peppy had fallen asleep with a bottle of wine beside him and a datapad that he dropped to his lap, which left just himself and the rest. But that soon changed as well as Six informed him of his intention to return to the ship, his speech unhindered by intoxication. Though, Fox observed with no small amount of amusement, he did appear somewhat exasperated as he carried a comatose lynx over his shoulder and struggled to keep Krystal's fumbling paws from his body as he set off on the journey back. 

Fox rolled his eyes and chuckled.

He was sure that the spartan had his hands quite full tonight.

 

*****

 

"Please refrain from touching me."

Six sighed in futility as he once more put Krystal's paws back in her lap for what must have been the hundredth time since they exited what Fox had deemed not a bar, but a nightclub, an apparent miscommunication on the vulpine's part.

It was not that he disliked her touch, but that he found it hard to concentrate on getting them back to the ship with the vixen continuously trying to feel him. He had a slight buzz in the back of his thoughts that was entirely unpleasant, which made it all the more maddening that he had to continuously take his awareness away from the street to combat the vixen's questing paws

"You know Six, your skins is just so... smooth... smooooooth... mmmmm." The female fox purred, an inquisitive paw reaching up once more to brush across his hand, though it was quickly contained and interned once more where it belonged as the spartan felt an even heavier sigh expel itself from his lungs.

He very nearly wished that she was as insensible as Miyu, who was currently draped over his shoulder like a sack of pelts. The feline had fallen asleep about an hour before they left, and no manner of coaxing from him would get her to wake up. Now, he was grateful for that as he doubted his patience could withstand having them both like this.

Truly Six was not angry at any one of them for perhaps taking to their drinks too fondly. He desired for them to be happy above all else, and if getting carried away during an outing with their friends was what gave them that release, than he would endure any number of days like this. He would return to that place right that moment if it would guarantee even just a smile from either of them.

Thankfully neither vixen nor feline were of sensible enough mind to make that decision.

Six would have called for a ride to take them all back to the ship, if he had known how. Fox looked far too occupied with his fiancé to offer assistance and Peppy had already fallen asleep at the table before the spartan had realized his impending situation.

Thus... they walked.

It was not in honesty, unbearable. Despite that alcohol had made Krystal a magnitude more gregarious, Six found himself to be content with his current predicament. He could come to enjoy these situations, notwithstanding the less gratifying moments. Civilian life, or at least times like this, was infinitely more tolerable when he had others to spend it with. The spartan could abide the mundane and the extraordinarily un-extraordinary as long as he had Starfox.

Six felt a small smile tug incessantly on his lips as he once more deflected a vixen's errant paw from its course. If anything he admired her tenacity.

"Must you be so persistent?" He inquired with a fond smirk as he glared amusedly at the woman.

"Not my fault." She retorted, quickly replicating his grin, albeit less effectively with her partially numbed facial muscles, the spartan chuckling quietly as he watched a dribble of saliva leak from her partly opened muzzle. "Blame my mother."

The vixen's retort gave the spartan pause, as he realized that he had never really inquired into her past farther than that of her time with Starfox.

"What was she like... your mother?" 

 

Krystal's expression was slow to change into one of bewilderment as her muddled thoughts seemed to dredge backwards. "She was a lot like me, or rather I was a lot like her I suppose. She would have loved you, my dad too. He had been a warrior first, and king second, but he most prided himself on being a wonderful father. The two of you would have gotten along quite well."

"I am not so sure about that." Six replied doubtfully. In his experience, the spartan did not quite get along with anyone.

"I am." Krystal countered with staunch conviction. "My father had the same veneration for duty as you do, Six. And he was renowned far across Cerinia as the greatest warrior since Xanthus himself. Though..." The vixen paused with a slight frown that was not entirely unamused. "He was perhaps not as found of combat as you are."

Accepting the well-intentioned nature of her witticism, the spartan allowed himself a small chuckle at that. "So... what was Cerinia like?" He wondered at a world that could yield such a fine woman as Krystal.

"It was a wonderful place, poverty was extremely rare and most diseases were easily prevented and treatable. What was most important however, was that her people were happy. Civil strife was unheard of, not since the times of my ancestors. Our public loved my father and mother, and they their public. I know you would have loved it too, granted you would have had a hard time acclimatizing to the lack of violence." She giggled pointedly.

"For you and Miyu I would endure anything... even peace." Six was confident in his assurance. If he had to forever lay down his arms for them he would do so, conceivably with some hesitation, but he would be willing to do that and so much more. 

 

The vixen did not respond to his assertion, though she did smile with was perhaps a more presence of mind than before.

He shared in her grin, though the tender mood was quickly doused like a lantern when Miyu grumbled in her sleep, something about power armored... lobsters?

Both Six and Krystal chuckling at the odd absurdity of the feline's drunken reveries, they turned their attention away from reflecting upon the past, and the spartan began to consider some other observations he had made in recent days.

"I noticed that you and Miyu seem to be back in... amiable moods." He broached the topic somewhat hesitantly.

Krystal appeared similarly uncomfortable as she nodded. "Yes... we are. You must know, Six. The situation we are in is... most unusual." The vixen alluded, not quite sure how much the spartan understood what they had agreed to or what it meant that they had formed an accord with each other.

Six had a somewhat partial grasp on the position the three of them were in. He was not entirely familiar with it, but he did have a fairly intrinsic sense of these things. He had gathered as much that the like of their intertwined relationship was less than traditional. But he had decided that if they could handle it, then he could as well.

"I do."

 

"Then I hope you also know that even as we may deal with... complications in the coming days, that we both are happy with what we have, and would not change it for anything else in the world."

That time, Six did not answer. In his eyes, he understood all that he needed to. They were with him, so he was with them. He would let Krystal and Miyu handle the rest of the details. His responsibilities lay within keeping them safe, and that was more than enough to already keep him more than reasonably occupied.

It was in such a disposition of thought that Six found his path on the street impeded by a small figure that had leapt from out of an alleyway.

The spartan glanced down to the sudden arrival with a sharp frown, though that was quickly exalted into an intense snarl as he eyed the blaster pistol directed at his chest. Immediate action from him was stayed as he realized that he was physically hindered by the feline on his shoulder. Within the span of time it took Krystal to gasp in surprise, the spartan had already calculated how long it would take to reach for the weapon holstered to his waist and bring it up to bear upon their assailant.

"S-stay right there, keep your paws w-where I can see them!" The mugger barked uncertainly.

As enraged as Six was that someone had dared to endanger his charges, the spartan hesitated upon hearing the unnerving youthfulness of the voice. This alone caused him to reevaluate the individual before him.

And he realized with an unforeseen jolt of surprise, that it was a child, a boy who could be no older than ten, maybe twelve years of age. Ragged and unkempt clothing threaded with stiches and holes made up the apparel of the grimy youth before him. A sharp, defining scar ran parallel to the adolescent's muzzle, which was slightly misaligned, just enough where eyes like Six's could notice. It had to have been from a fracture that did not heal properly. The kid would have appeared canine if not for the distinctly angular snout and ears that reminded him of a wolf. All in all the sight would have pitiable if not for the glint of steely determination in the pup's determined eyes, the silvery orbs glaring up at the towering spartan with admirable nerve.

Six felt his heart stop beating for a moment.

 

*****

 

 

The world around him vanished into darkness, his vision returning to him as the spartan took in the changed environment, and lack of both Krystal and Miyu, with the mysterious child as well faded away from view. Glancing down at himself, Six studied the MJOLNIR encasing him, noticing its outdated accruements and HUD software. His gauntlets clasped tightly around a small caliber rifle with a bulky suppressor affixed to the barrel. Around him were the deserted outskirts of a small colonial city, one that was distressingly familiar.

 

Moving of its own violation, a gauntlet brought itself up to the side of his helmet and the spartan felt his lips move to form words he had not intended to speak.

 

"Operation concluded, device in place." His voice was cool, calloused and disinterested as he waited for acknowledgment.

 

"Confirmed Reaper-Actual, warhead is primed. You have authorization to disengage from AO."

 

That voice, he recognized it.

 

It was his handler.

 

This was Cryus IV.

 

A wave of revulsion spiked in his gut and the spartan felt the desire to puke, though he did nothing of the sort as legs not under his power turned to walk away, stopping as a small figure moved to approach him.

 

A child stood before him, a little girl. Eight, perhaps nine years old, blonde hair like woven gold and eyes the color of storm clouds as she gazed upon the towering armored figure in abject wonder, fearless and full of youthful innocence.

 

"Command be advised, a small child, outside blast range. Requesting orders"

 

"She might survive the blast, and there can be no witnesses. You know what to do, Command out."

 

Silently acknowledging the unspoken directive, the spartan lowered his hand from the comms equipment on the side of his helmet and firmly grasped the suppressed submachine gun in his gantlets, the child watching curiously as a red dot meandered up her dress, her eyes crossing as it stopped at the center of her forehead. 

 

He squeezed the trigger.

 

A softened crack split the air.

 

Something fell to the grass with a muted thump.

 

Not moments later the sky flashed white and a deafening roar shook the very air around him.

 

 

*****

 

Six inhaled softly as the blinding light and past memory faded, dropping his conscious thought violently back into the present, where he could hear Krystal trying to speak with the young gunman.

"Hello little one." The vixen offered the trembling wolf pup a soft smile.

"S-shut up." The young lupine growled uncertainly, his once cool and collected eyes now wide as they glanced about fearfully. "Just give me the creds you got on you."

"You don't want that." Krystal replied kindly, her tone leaking nothing but empathy and compassion. "Where are your parents?"

Six was startled that she showed no ounce or trace of fear in the face of an uncertain child with a gun, if anything she seemed... sad. The spartan, though shaken by the sudden dredging of the past, would still have acted to stop the youth if not for the restraining paw he felt wrapped tightly around the hand he used to reach for his weapon.

"Why do you care?" The kid demanded with a snarl, his paws tightening around his pistol. Though he instantly recoiled at the low growl that erupted from the spartan's throat.

"Why should I not?' The vixen countered serenely, still nothing but caring towards the juvenile criminal.

Uncertainty momentarily flashed in the pup's watery eyes, his resolve rapidly crumbling by the second, in that moment appearing simply as a down on his luck kid who had found himself out of his league. "I... just shut up."

"What's your name?"

The young lupine took a step back, clearly surprised that she would ask. "Why, so you can tell the police?" He demanded with a scowl.

"No. I ask so that I can call you something other than a thief." Briefly, her eyes flashed with a hint of insistence, revealing that a will like iron existed within her outwardly tender demeanor.

"S-silver..." The youth stuttered halfheartedly. "My parents called me Silver."

"Well Silver... how about you put that gun down and we can find somewhere nicer to talk." Krystal offered with a sympathetic smile and outstretched paw.

Doubt and indecision warred for supremacy upon the young wolf's muzzle. The weapon shaking in his trembling paws. But gradually and with a nerve-racking sluggishness, the pup moved to hand over his blaster.

Six did not surrender the white knuckled grasp he had on his holstered pistol until the weapon was safely secured within Krystal's paw.

"There we go... that's a good pup." The vixen cooed tenderly, patting the adolescent's head with one paw as she slipped the blaster into a pouch on her chair with the other. "You did the right thing, Silver." She encouraged him with a bright smile. "Your parent's would be proud."

It was clear to her and the spartan, that his family was in all likelihood deceased. Six was just glad that he did not have to reunite the kid with his family. That would be something he could do without.

"I... I'm s-sorry." The wolf pup whimpered, tears running in streams down his muzzle as he finally let loose a storm of emotions that must have been brewing for years. It was a wretched sight, one that even tried the fortitude of a spartan as he glanced down at the crying puppy. Snot running from his crooked snout as the young lupine sobbed uncontrollably.

Without hesitation, Krystal swept up the sniffling child in a comforting embrace, holding him to her breast as she whispered comforting platitudes to the troubled youth, running her paw through the fur atop his head as she soothed him. "It's okay sweetie. Let it all out. You're okay now."

Six, standing in awkward silence as he watched her comfort a child who only seconds ago had them at gunpoint, wondered what exactly brought such insanity into his life. Still, he was glad that the confrontation did not end sourly. Though he would never say this, he did feel for the child. Alone, doing what he could to survive, he had lived like that himself for a long time.

That, and he was happy he did not have to kill another kid.

Sighing softly, Six turned Krystal's wheelchair back on path and resumed their journey back to the ship with a whimsical frown as he watched the vixen fawn dotingly over the weeping wolf pup.

Knowing the woman, she'd probably want to keep him.


	31. A Stint of Normality

Chapter 29: A Stint of Normality

"So... the kid tries to stick you up, fails, so you decide to take him back to the ship?" Fox inquired with a hint of mirth as he turns to the frowning spartan standing next to him near the back of the common room, the two males watching as Krystal held the fitfully sleeping form of the small wolf pup. The vulpine nursed a mug of coffee, a poor attempt at staving off his pounding headache, what was a reminder why he usually did not drink all too much.

It had been an hour since they returned to the Great Fox, and after unloading an unconscious lynx in her quarters, Six took both Krystal and the wolf child to the common room while he contacted Fox about this new development. Thankfully the vulpine had only just entered his cab when Six called, so he had only been a few minutes behind them. Though, he had brought Fara with him, the vixen sitting across from Krystal, a soft smile playing on her expression as she watched the other female coddle the slumbering pup.

"That is an accurate summarization." Six agreed reluctantly. He would have preferred dropping the child of at the closest orphanage, but feared what Krystal might say to him had he suggested such a course of action. He considered his idea to be both logical and pragmatic, but was well aware that a far more emotional force drove his love interest. He would have also suggested that they locate the child's parents, but it was clear to him that there was simply no one to be found. He had seen more than his fair share of street orphans in his career, dirtied youths that roamed the thoroughfares of the continent spanning municipalities spread across human sovereign territory. The teens amongst them were often armed and dangerous, almost feral. Even the younger adolescents on occasion were wild and untamed.

The spartan was concerned about Krystal's plans for the boy. She had a fondness for collecting and attempting to repair broken things, and he had a bad feeling that the pup would be one of them.

"She wants to keep him here, at least for the night." Another concern of his, the child after all had not hours ago threatened their lives, albeit he was hardly a threat in the first place, Still, if there was even a minor chance that he might act hostilely, it was not a risk Six wanted to take. Nevertheless, as he was growing accustomed to, Krystal had made an executive decision, with an impressive staunchness he might add. Thus he found himself not only condoning the child's stay, but acting as a representative on his behalf. He would have chuckled at the irony, if not for the seriousness of the debacle.

"Does she..." Fox mused with a strange air about him, partially amused, and yet at the same time concerned.

Six did not know what Fox was thinking in that moment, yet he realized with a frown, having developed an intensive dossier on the vulpine, that he already knew what his answer would be.

"Alright, he can stay for tonight. However if she wants him to stay any longer she has to talk to me personally, one-on-one."

"Agreed." Six dipped his head in acknowledgment. He was actually glad for that, as he hoped Fox might possess the steel to deal with her that he himself did not contain. The spartan found it nigh impossible to disagree with her passionate beliefs. After all it was those very ardent philosophies that had arguably changed him for the better.

A moment of silence passed between them before Fox seemed to grow more serious. "I have some news myself. Pepper called me just before you did. It's serious."

"What has gone wrong now?" Six inquired, a frown curling his lips as both Krystal and now Fara it seemed were entranced by the sleeping child. It would seem as if the chances for him leaving on the morrow were growing slimmer by the second.

"The garrison on Katina went silent four hours ago. And as of forty minutes from this moment, we've lost contact with the entire planet, no transmissions, ships, or news of any kind. All activity to and from that sector is dead."

Six could see it in the shine of Fox's eyes.

The vulpine was afraid.

And perhaps somewhere deep down.

He was too.

"What does he need from us?"

The glint in Fox's eye sparkled acutely.

"Not us... you. The General is assembling an investigative task force to determine the cause for the blackout, a cruiser with a small special ops unit. This is something Starfox is not equipped to handle. On the other hand I, you, and the General know you are. I won't force you to go. Bu-"

"When do I leave?" The spartan inquired, cutting him off. This was it, Six could feel that same sense of foreboding in his gut that struck him on his first day on Reach. The storm was no longer approaching.

It was here.

Then again he could be wrong, but the spartan could not remember the last time his instincts failed him in any serious capacity.

"It'll take a day or two for the cruiser to reroute from Zoness and berth at the orbital space-dock. So you have until then." The vulpine frowned. "Are you sure you want to do this. I can't tell you how long you'll be gone." There was an unspoken addition that lingered after that statement. If it was what they feared, there was no guarantee he would come back.

"Someone has to Fox, and I don't see any other supersoldiers lining up for the task." He knew the risks, always did. There was no one else that could do this other than him, and even he was not certain that he could succeed if the worst came to pass. He was just one spartan, third generation at that, a cheap knockoff.

Suddenly his concerns about the child seemed self-indulgent. There were greater threats out there than that of one adolescent.

"Something tells me Krystal is not exactly going to be excited about this." Fox voiced with a smug chuckle.

Six winced as he realized this fact as well. That conversation would not be a pleasant one.

"No, she will not."

Mumbling a somewhat insincere farewell, Six shifted himself out from the shadow of the far wall and stepped towards the center of the common room, a stern grimace on his scared visage as he dreaded the conversation to come. When he was close enough, Krystal removed her attention from the slumbering wolf pup and looked up to him with a positively radiant smile, a smile that he regretfully tarnished with a worried frown as she noticed his serious glare. Already, that child was making her happier than he ever had, he knew not the juvenile's ability to garner so much affection from her with little positive return, but in that moment it was no concern of his.

"What's wrong?' She asked with a soft tone and a clear and present hesitation in her words, and he hated the fact that he created this timidness in her. But unlike usual, he could not entirely conceal his otherwise irritable demeanor.

"I have... bad news." He admitted with a sigh.

At his words the vixen wrapped her paws tightly around the sleeping wolf child with a worrying possessiveness. "Did Fox say no?"

"He agreed that he could stay, but that is not what I am talking about." Six went silent, not entirely confident on how to articulate his next words.

"What, what is it, Six?" Her concern only grew more obvious and painful as his muteness dragged on. Her tail fluttered indecisively at her side and the paws the vixen had wrapped around the child trembled.

Deciding that saying something was better than standing around like a fool, he relented on being as direct as possible. "Something has... come up and Pepper has need of me. In a few days I'll be... leaving. And I am not sure when I'll be coming back."

This appeared to tip the female fox over the edge, her eyes wide and panicked as she released one of her grips on the child and reached out for him. "What... you're leaving? I d-don't understand." 

Six could feel her distress in the strength of her grasp, her paw clenched tight and needful around his hand. The sight tore at his insides more powerfully than a sangheili energy blade, and the spartan felt a sharp and painful tug in his chest. This was harder than he thought it would be. But he took solace and strength from the warmth of her touch. It reminded him why he had to leave. He needed to protect her, and this was the best way he knew how.

"Krystal... I have to do this."

"No!" The vixen shouted in denial, shaking her muzzle profusely as if her resolve alone could prevent this, the wolf pup in her arms murmured softly in his sleep, disturbed by the loud noises of the vixen's distress and the trickle of liquid pattering down on him. "You don't have to do anything, not anymore. You don't have to leave me!"

Six smiled sadly, leaning down to embrace her with a soft chuckle, his voice low and placating in its sincerity. "Do not be foolish little vixen. I will never leave you. So long as I am here..." He placed the palm of his hand on the cleft between her breasts, above her heart. "I can never truly be gone."

"You left me once already." She whined quietly, her muzzle seeking comfort in the crook of his neck as she placed a paw on his hand on her chest. "I can't lose you again. I won't. Let me go with you."

"You know why you cannot." Six had no need to tell her why. Perhaps, if she was not disabled, he might have deliberated on whether nor not he could take her with him, but with her lingering injury he could not in good conscious even consider allowing her to follow him. "I promise I will come back, it should only be for a few days." He felt as if was stretching the truth, but he did hope that it would only be that long, that this was just some false alarm, however much he doubted that.

"Come..." Six reached down and gently took the young lupine from his place in her lap, carefully resting the small adolescent in the crook of his arm as he used his other to transfer Krystal from the couch to her chair. "We can talk more in our room." He suggested with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He had never really been good at those. Thankfully, it appeared to work as the distraught vixen calmed somewhat, her tears drying as she clutched his free arm in a deathly grip.

Before he departed, Six cast one more look at Fox, the vulpine offering him an encouraging grin of his own as he moved to sit next to Fara, though Six noted it lacked his usual vigor and grit. The spartan ducked his head in a terse farewell to them both as he left the room, a sharp and painful grapple clutching his heart.

*****

It was a monumentally challenging undertaking, but Six was able to finally talk down Krystal's fears, what he had hoped to be a short and quick conversation extending to several hours until she at last fell asleep against his chest. He sighed in resignation as he placed both her and the still sleeping wolf child onto the bed, where he could keep an eye on them both, the kid especially. He did not know what Silver's role would turn out to be, whether the pup would be gone by the time he returned or turn out to be a more permanent facet of Starfox. He did respect the kid's resolve, a few months of tutoring under an experienced instructor and he might make something of himself. But that was neither, what was important or a worthy concern of his time. Taking his focus away from the bed, Six shifted his attention onto something that might occupy him.

The spartan already knew that sleep would not be finding him that night, and busied himself with taking apart his rifle to run a careful eye over its inner mechanics. He was not sure if he would be needing it when he left. He hoped he would not, but intuition born of a thousand blood-soaked battlefields told him otherwise. One way or another his rifle would roar its fearsome battle cries.

He did not like that he would be leaving Krystal, or anyone. What he once would have counted as a blessing only saddened him as he realized that he would be separating from his new family for the first time since he came to care for them. He worried, more for them than himself. He feared what might happen when he was unable to watch over them. He had fleetingly considered turning down Pepper's request, but denied such an action as foolish and selfish as well.

Besides, if this turned out to be what he thought it was, he'd be happier to know that Krystal, Miyu, and all of his friends were nowhere nearby.

A quiet pop of metal filled the silence around him as Six extracted the weapon's power cell, studying the energy pack with a technician's critical gaze, his free hand dropping to the desk and resting by his blaster.

The kid was awake.

The spartan heard the telltale shift in his breathing pattern indicating that the small child had awoken from his unexpected slumber. Because of Krystal, he was willing to offer the adolescent the curtesy of not ending his life for threatening one of his lovers, but that did not infer that he would hesitate if the moment came.

He watched from the glowing reflection within the power cell as the child bolted upright, appearing both dazed and confused as his eyes darted about the close confines of the living quarters. Six was curious how he might react, would he once again leap for his criminal nature, something the spartan would not suggest, or would he do something else unanticipated.

The young wolf pup's panicked inhalations eventually settled as he remained sitting upright on the bed. As soon as he had shaken off his anxieties, the pup glanced about himself, patting down his unkempt apparel and combing a ragged paw through his dirty and disheveled fur.

If the kid hoped to stay any longer he better be prepared for a shower.

Seemingly satisfied to uncover that he was still wholly intact, the fledgling lupine focused more on his surrounding environment, where his eyes roved to the slumbering form of Krystal beside him, the vixen having curled up tightly in her sleep. He froze for a moment, before a faint, almost unreadable smile pulled at his features.

The sight was a small abatement for the spartan's reservations about the child, as he appeared a degree less volatile in that moment.

Turning away from the sleeping fox, the kid scanned the room itself now, his gaze wandering the possessions of both the spartan and the vixen, when his eyes stopped on the shotgun Six left at the bedside.

The spartan clutched his handgun tight.

Krystal could yell and scream at him all she wanted, but if the adolescent made a move for the weapon, Six would end him.

Thankfully, both for the spartan's peace of mind and the wolf's health, his eyes roamed past the weapon till they landed upon the spartan himself, who had yet to make it obvious that he noticed the pup's awakening.

If the child was stunned at noticing Krystal, he was all but petrified when he took in the imposing sight of Six himself. Even out of armor and seated before the desk, he still ranged far above the smaller juvenile in height and muscle mass. Fear was etched deeply on the little one's muzzle and he instinctively hunched over, cowering upon the bed.

At that Six finally let loose a dry chuckle as he used a boot to kick out a small stool that sat underneath the desk. Opening a drawer, he stowed the pistol away and gestured towards the seat he had revealed.

"Come... sit." Though devoid of any comprehensible anger or malice, the irrefutable tone of authority in his voice was not to be denied, and with great hesitation, the child kicked his small feet off the bed and tentatively rose to his full and lesser height before making his way towards the spartan. He paused for a few lingering moments before finally setting himself down on the stool, his head only reaching the human supersoldier's elbow.

Six did not immediately react to the child's presence, instead taking the time to reassemble his rifle and gather his thoughts before proceeding. In the few minutes it took for him to partly put the weapon together, the child beside him underwent a rapid and curious array of expressions.

Fear was predominant amongst them, though it did not last long before his youthful keenness proved its ability to surmount any obstacle as he watched the spartan's work with rapt interest.

Though Six did not intend it, a slight smile found its way on his scarred features. Initially it was the young one's eyes, so bright and inquisitive; much like his had once been that garnered such a reaction. In that moment the pup reminded him of himself back during his first handful of weapon drills back on Onyx. That is if he had been a bipedal wolf child at the time.

The thought alone nearly brought another chuckle from him, but the spartan easily contained the notion.

Curious, he made to pretend that he had fumbled an errant rivet used to latch the stock closed, the minute bolt hit the desk with a light ping and rolled across the smooth surface till it spiraled to a stop at the spot in front of the kid.

He paused, watching interestedly as the lupine's eyes that so fascinatingly harmonized with his name, stared intently at the wayward fastener. With a wary and fearful slowness, the young wolf removed a paw from its hiding placed underneath the desk and wrapped the appendage around the bolt. His eyes turned away from his prize, before the little kid wordlessly offered it out to him.

His small smile growing slightly, Six accepted the gift. However, his smile soon became strained as his hand wrapped around the child's paw. There was little flesh between his fur and his bones, of which Six could feel the insignificant but disconcerting misalignment of his stubby fingers.

They had been broken, and they had not healed properly.

His crimson scrutiny deepened and his otherwise suspicious nature softened as he peered into the young lupine's silvery eyes. What exactly had happened to this unfortunate child? He was malnourished, and he had clearly been beaten, what kind of person could beat a child needlessly? Six decided they were of the sort that would not live long under his gaze.

The spartan could not mend past injuries, but he could resolve more manageable concerns. Releasing the frailty of the youthful wolf's paw, he swiftly reassembled his rifle in its entirety and placed it gently upon the desk's surface before looking to the little wolf with an unusually warm grin.

"Come on. Let's find you something to eat."

Though remaining silent, Silver acknowledged his suggestion with what was perhaps a decidedly eager nod of his muzzle before extending out his paw once more. It was clear that he wished Six to hold, or possibly carry him. The spartan would have denied him, but something inside him stopped that inclination of repudiation, and instead urged him to accept the request of one so young and vulnerable.

The spartan's grin became uncertain as he clasped his hand around the young wolf's paw, though the soft smile from the child assured him that he was right to do so. Six felt something new as he held the child's paw and exited his quarters with the kid in tow; a different desire to protect that was not of the same reasons he had for Krystal or Miyu. He could feel the strength in the pup's grasp on him, as if he were afraid to let go.

For whatever reason the child felt safer with him, and the concept made Six feel... happy.

*****

Silver did not remember much of the events that had brought him into his strange newfound luck, most days tended to blend together for him. However the one that made it all change had started off much like usual, wake up in the alley he had called home for the last two years, beg for enough credits to hopefully get breakfast that was not earned scrounging through the trash, and try to find anything useful he could fix up and pawn for more credits.

But he could determine what was the spur had been that brought him to where he was now. The blaster, the one he had found in a trashcan a few miles from his hideout. It was perhaps his greatest find ever, and he had at first thought to trade it in for a substantial amount of credits, enough to keep him fed for at least a few weeks if he stretched it smart. Then he had considered a different idea, one that was perhaps not the brightest in hindsight.

Why sell it for a small influx of money, when he could simply use it for a more permanent source of income. If he could remember his parents at all they might have instilled in him some moral values that would have brought abhorrence to even contemplate turning to crime. But the lack of memory and an empty gut was all the motivation he needed. Even then it had taken time to gather the courage. He had learned early on that he was not the strongest, nor the smartest street kid around, and he did possess the memories of broken bones and torn flesh to remind him.

He did practice a little, mostly on tin cans and the occasional pest that shared the alley with him. Silver learned in those few sessions that he was not a very good shot, but that hardly mattered as he didn't really plan to shoot anyone, he wasn't that tough. But he did hope that weapon would be enough of a threat where he could at least get a married couple to surrender their wallets, or perhaps an old lady their purse.

At this moment he could not tell if it was bad or good luck that saw to it that his first hold up would end so sourly for him. When he saw the female in the wheelchair, he had thought it the perfect chance to get some money for food. So eager to silence the ache in his belly, he had not really noticed how menacing her friend was. He had quickly come to realize however when he had jumped out of the alley, already stuttering and hesitant.

He really just was a stupid pup like the other kids were so willing to call him. He had crumpled like a wet sheet at the first sign of resistance, not at all like the terror he thought he would be. It was the female that really was responsible for his failure, more than the towering figure of her friend, her voice, so soft and understanding, just the touch of motherly concern that he had been missing for his entire life. She did not see a young thug, she saw a kid in need of help. When she had asked for his name, he had already known that he couldn't go through with his plan, could not rob someone who even seemed like they genuinely cared about him, however irrational that sounded.

What had happened next was admittedly embarrassing on his part. He remembered a lot of crying, and sobbing, and apologies, which was one of the unequivocally voluminous remembrances he could really do without. However one he did wish to keep was the feeling of being held. She had picked him up, carried him in her lap as she murmured soothing words in his ears. Her fur had been the softest thing he had ever laid his head upon, no overstuffed trash bag could ever hope to compare to the wondrous softness of her pelt.

It came as no surprise to him upon waking up afterwards that he had fallen asleep then and there, eased into slumber by gentle words and an even gentler touch, the like of which he had never before experienced.

At first upon waking up he had been afraid, the environment around him was unfamiliar, but the warm softness of the bed underneath him had proved to be more than worth his anxieties. A real bed! He had been struck numb by the realization. He could not remember the last time he had slept in a true bed, not the dingy mattresses he found on occasion. That alone was cause for celebration if not for his current predicament. At first he had looked around to see if he could find a way to escape where ever it was they kept him, though he did notice the same female had been in the bed with him, and he felt some hesitation about fleeing.

There was even a weapon he could have taken with him, what looked far superior to his banged up blaster pistol. But he disregarded it, what was a child do with something like that anyway? He had decided at the time to at least find a door or something, when he saw him... the male from before.

All thought of escape was discounted upon seeing that massive individual. Never in his life had Silver seen someone so big. It was not the largeness of an overweight person, but the bulk of a warrior, like the barbarians in the fantasy comics he collected. And when he had spoken, it was a voice like a rumbling earthquake, low and tremendous in its reverberation.

He was honestly surprised he had enough presence of mind to heed the giant's command. Though, he might have been driven in no small part by curiosity. This male was so utterly different then the female he had accompanied, where she was gentle and small, he was fierce and mighty, no sense of compassion or understanding had he carried. If anything, Silver was near certain the towering male had been ready to kill him at a moment's notice.

What was perhaps more curious to the pup, was his appearance. He was unique in that Silver had never seen someone like him before, his fur was well-nigh nonexistent and he was far taller than anyone he had ever laid eyes on.

What incited fear in Silver, was the grimness the male carried about himself. There was a silent intensity in his bearing that was overwhelming in its power, a veritably pungent aura of incontestable malice.

When performed in concert with his monumental stature and outlandish features, it was little wonder that this strange male was a captivating subject of thought for the child. Silver was fascinated by him, and had continued to carry that curiosity as he took a seat on the stool offered to him, more inquisitive than afraid in that moment.

The wolf pup decided that he rather liked the male's unambiguously stoic attitude in the minutes he sat watching him work in silence. He carried an intrinsic confidence and deft experience that the young wolf envied, strength of both character and body that he himself wanted. This was the kind of male that was not preyed upon by the strong, for he was stronger.

So when a stray part of his weapon found itself stopping before the pup, the child could not help but try and offer some sort of assistance to the powerful figure. He had trembled, his outstretched paw shivering as he held out the small piece, even an attempted closeness of contact enough to shake him. After all, it had been the stronger boys on the street that had so enjoyed tormenting him. The wolf pup both craved and feared power.

Yet the furless appendage that touched him was wholly bereft of the conventionally cruel and crushing weight, instead it was kindhearted, with no sense of repugnance or cruelty. What was more, the male smiled, something that while perhaps not without its roughness, was not devoid of warmth and compassion.

This baffled the child.

Silver did not understand why both the female fox and this strange male bothered to treat him with such underserved kindness. He had attempted to extort them, yet they instead took him in and offered him a place to rest, however temporary it was to be. He could perhaps understand why the female might, that gender was typically associated with acts of unexplained compassion. The male had no such distinctive nature yet there he had been offering him both comfort and food.

Despite that he felt he was underserving, Silver did not argue against such good luck, the pain in his stomach reminding him he had not eaten in several days. He knew not how long these people's good graces would last, but he came to the decision to take advantage of their hospitality for as long as it was offered.

However he had not consciously reached out for the male's hand, but there he had found his paw gripped in the male's strong but gentle grasp. Perhaps it was the sense of safety it provided that prompted his body to act without direction. There was no strong male figure in his life, or a figure of any sort, regardless of gender.

Whatever the reason he might have had, Silver did not regret what he did. It had been a long time since he felt safe.

As the male lead him outside the room, the wolf pup was quick to study his environment in the hopes of memorizing any details he could use later, if he did have to make his escape. Unfortunately such a choice appeared difficult if not impossible as he realized the extent of his predicament, seeing halls of steel corridors that stretched onwards and branched off in many directions. He was aboard a ship, and with his unfamiliarity when concerned with space fairing vessels, any rapid exit strategy looked more and more unlikely as the seconds tolled by. There was no telling how large it was or how many individuals were onboard. And he doubted anyone would offer such information to a child freely, especially not one that had attempted to waylay members of their crew.

With little chance of departure should his bad luck resurface, Silver felt some reasonable amounts of trepidation as he followed the large male to what he hoped was a place of eating, as his stomach was now in outcry at the mere thought of food. He hoped and prayed that their benevolence and generosity might linger a little while longer.

As it seemed it would, the sign for the ship's dining room hanging above the door he was being led too. Once inside Silver wondered what a ship's mess would look like. He had never seen the likes of any room for food besides the few establishments that catered to a filthy child like himself, which was to say that there quality was perhaps not all too impressive.

However from his inquiring gaze, he did learn a few things about this ship. The staggered and organized rows of silvery tables and benches led him to believe it was some sort of military vessel, as any other kind would have a more homely arrangement, or at least he would assume so. The male as well helped him form this theory, as his appearance could only be that of a military figure. Though his uniform was not of CDF design, Silver would not deny its purpose.

Following the soldier with eager anticipation as his hope of getting a meal swelled, Silver felt much of his unease fade away merely at the prospect of food, real food at that, not the second rate goods he would usually find. His tongue swiped across his muzzle subconsciously, clearing away the saliva that threatened to leak from his jaws, the action eliciting a small smile from the male in front of him as he stopped by a strange row of machines that were recessed into the far wall beside a pair of double doors.

Silver watched in silent excitement as the large male indicted the machines with a wave of his furless paw. His voice rose once more, its deep reverb informing the pup of the astounding nature of such devices.

They created food, at the push of a button!

The wolf child did not believe such a thing until he watched in abject wonder as the male retrieved a serving tray packed with mashed tubers and a salivating cut of meat, gesturing for him to follow his lead.

Silver wasted little to no time in stepping up to one of the machines and hastily depressing an image of a food product with no care as to what it was as long as it was food. He giggled in suitable excitement as compartment on the machine opened some seconds later, a tray of steamed vegetables and a bowl of some strange green substance rolled out on the extended ramp. Hardly a moment passed before he snatched the platter and readied to hastily gorge himself on his newfound bounty. Yet a disapproving stare from the male beside him brought some sense of table manners to the child who grinned weakly in apology as he followed the towering individual to one of the nearby tables.

With an impressive exertion of will, the pup managed to wait until they were both seated before tearing into his meal with feral abandon. Despite how quickly he scarfed it down, he could already tell it was the best thing he had ever eaten, the vegetables tasted fresh and vibrant, unlike the near spoiled fair he usually found And the green stuff in the bowl was kind of like a sauce that covered a portion of rice and meat in a tangy, somewhat spicy blend.

Even as he devoured his meal, he felt his eyes water as tears cascaded down his muzzle. He had never been treated so kindly in all his life. The dizzying combination of compassionate treatment and good food was almost more than his mind could take. He knew not who these people were that took him in, but he would never forget this day for as long as he lived. Yet in spite of his joy, he felt fear, fear that this would all end soon enough. Certainly they were nice to him, perhaps even more than nice, but they would not want a scrappy orphan like him to stick around. Then it would be back to the streets, or crammed into an orphanage to wait out his days till he was old enough for them to let him go back into the world.

Something landed on his shoulder, a weight that was heavy yet gentle, and Silver recognized the male's touch as the soldier looked to him with a smile that was a fair few degrees warmer than any he had yet to offer. It was a look that seemed to promise him that he need not return to such a dour existence. Or at least that's what he so desperately wished it hoped to convey.

In any case, Silver absolved to enjoy his luck while it lasted.

*****

Six looked down to the wolf child, whose eyes were brimming with tears as he voraciously gorged himself on a dinner that was in all likelihood the first real meal he had consumed in a long time. As the spartan took in the state of the adolescent's apparel and current disposition, he felt pity. But more importantly he could see himself in the child's eyes. He had been much like Silver in his days before the Office of Naval Intelligence found him, no friends, no family, nothing to keep him together but his own determination to survive.

He admired this child, which had lived longer like that than even himself. Yet he saw a frailty in the kid that must have been beaten into him through hardship and strife. There were scars that ran deeper than of the flesh, and it all reminded Six of his own struggles a little too keenly.

Whatever it was that had befallen the child, Six was merely glad to give him what comfort and aid he could before he departed. Sighing quietly and wondering at a world that could do this to children, Six focused on his own meal as he popped the case on his TACPAD in a decision to spend some time updating his notes on the peculiarities of the Lylat System. After all, this was a strange place and though no one would ever read his transcriptions, it was enough to simply pass the time.

Before he was able to take the fourth bite of his meal, Six felt something warm and furry nudge his elbow, glancing up from his holographic interface, the spartan looked to the pup sitting in front of him.

The child, or Silver he now supposed since he was all but certain that the kid would not be leaving anytime soon, looked to him expectantly his eyes wide and pleading as he pushed his tray forward in silent pleading.

Six rolled his eyes, though he did not dispel the smile that was brought to his face as he nodded and flicked his head in the direction of the AMD's that rested at the back of the room. Almost before he finished indicating his acceptance the pup was gone, his tail whipping an excited pattern as he bolted towards one of the machines.

Perhaps the child was not all that much like him after all. If so, that was a good thing.

As Silver busied himself taking a somewhat more patient and observant go at the machines, Six heard the commissary's doors open and watched as a groggy feline slipped inside as she clutched her head and grumbled to herself. Six's smile widened as he watched in amusement as the hungover lynx stumbled her way towards him.

She deserved this, after all he had warned her on not downing enough fluids before she passed out. He had enough medical training to now she would be heavily dehydrated upon waking. Still he did feel bad for her, and was quick to grab a cup of water before she was even halfway on her approach to the table.

As bleary as she was Miyu hardly took her eyes off the ground as she slumped into what he supposed he could call a seated posture beside him, a loud groan eking out of her mouth as she leaned into him weightily and reached for the cup sitting in front of her. No time was wasted as she chugged the drink, water soaking into the fur around her maw as she thirstily attacked the beverage. She did not relent until the inside of the cup was dry, slamming the machined plastic onto the table with a semi-content sigh.

"Ahhhh... that really hit the spot, thanks Six." She peered up to him through squinted eyes, her soaked muzzle splitting into an appreciative grin. However her squinting narrowed as she looked past him towards the other side of the commissary, her smile slowly shifting into confusion.

"So... is that a kid or am I still wasted?"

"No, that is indeed a child. We... found him or our way back, this would be while you were intoxicated." He added with a low chuckle.

The resulting furred fist crashing into his shoulder was perhaps undeserved, but he ignored what had hardly hurt at all. Instead he spent a few minutes quickly updating her on the exact origin of the child while he was still busy trying to decide what to eat next from the vast selection provided by the machines.

"Well that's certainly interesting, you guys get into all kinds of hijinks while I'm knocked out, don't you?"

Six decided that a shrug was suitable enough a response as he watched the child return, several trays stacked precariously in his paws as it seemed he decided to sample a few dishes at once. He must have truly been underfed were he used to live, so it was good now that he had the chance to account for some missed meals.

The wolf pup slowed in his approach as he noticed another individual at the table who was not anyone he had yet to meet. Yet his desire to eat soon outweighed his nerves and he hastily slipped back into place, though he did seem to possess some manners as he timidly introduced himself to Miyu.

"H-hello... my name's S-silver."

The feline studied the small lupine, a small and warm curl pulling at her muzzle as she reached out to ruffle the wolf's unruly man. "Hey there squirt, name's Miyu, rhymes with pee-ew." She replied with a lighthearted giggled as she mimed pinching her nose and waiving at a nonexistent breeze of foul air.

At first the child seemed hesitant, but that passed quickly as he snickered along with the feline. 

Six watched this display with an indistinct smile of his own. However bad he was with children, at least he had Krystal and Miyu to pick up the pieces. From there he watched as the two soon engaged in conversation, the spartan acquiescing to the strong realization that Miyu was far more versed in this form of interaction than he would ever be.

Instead he contented himself with concluding his report on the findings of energy diffusion upon titanium battleplate as he finished off the remnants of his dinner. It was still unusual to continuously eat food that did not taste of bland rations, and was one of the other benefits of his life that he did in fact enjoy.

As he tidied up his closing passage on the various changes in the reaction of titanium when introduced to fluctuating power settings of blaster weapons, he placed his fork on his empty plate and focused back on his two companions.

By this time the wolf child was utterly at ease with Miyu, seeming far more comfortable than he had been with the spartan himself, and was apparently telling her a story of his past that was supposed to come off as amusing, but merely was sad given its context. The feline of course laughed along to its conclusion, but he could see the sadness in her eyes that some kid so vibrant and cheerful could have been living such a miserable existence.

He considered that it was unfortunate that she would learn something else upsetting as her flagged her attention with a soft grunt. "Fox has a mission for me, something from Pepper that doesn't include the rest of Starfox. As I'll be leaving in a few days I was hoping you could look after Kry-"

"Nope, don't even think about it Six." The feline retorted with a speedy denial that honestly surprised him.

"Whatever it is, I'm coming too. You damn well know that she doesn't need me to look after her. She's more than capable, not to mention the rest of the team will be with her. You on the other hand, won't take five fuc..." She paused her tirade as she briefly looked to the bewildered wolf child, "freaking steps without landing yourself into trouble." 

"You don't even know what the mission is." He retorted, a sense of suspicion rising in him, as she seemed almost ready for his announcement. The thought of a telepathic vixen brought a somewhat whimsical frown to his visage. Of course she would find some way to influence his life. He felt that he should be mad, yet he felt content instead that she and Miyu cared so much.

"Doesn't matter what the mission is, Six. We go together, we're partners remember." She reminded him her voice softening as she grabbed his hand and squeezed tight.

Unable to oppose such a well-intentioned reprisal, the spartan sighed in resignation. "Very well... we'll both go... partner." Closing his TACPAD, Six stood up from the table and set himself on returning to the armory. If she was to come as well, then he would have to push ahead the deadline for his side project, or at least the one intended for her. However he could not help but one up her tricky ways. "Partners as we are, I'll leave Silver to you now." As he informed her of her new duties as guardian, he was already heading towards the door, a smile lingering in his expression as he heard the excited babbling of the child, and a far more subdued, near unnoticeable sigh.

*****

It was a small quite affair, his and Miyu's send off. The team, plus one, had gathered at the loading ramp to see them off. As of the day before, the cruiser that would be taking them and the special ops unit to Katina had arrived at the dock and was being resupplied. All that was left would have them meeting the General himself at the nearby military base where they would be updated on any possible changes to the mission before they departed for orbit.

Six could tell that while Krystal was still troubled that he would be leaving, she was relieved that he had at least allowed Miyu to tag along. For someone she had been lead to believe that he could not take care of himself, still, he was grateful for her concern. In any case he had ensured that he would be prepared, the tangible weight of two large weapons mag-locked to his spine a constant reminder that he was as prepared as he could possibly be for any unexpected contingency.

Nevertheless... he could not shake the sense of apprehension as he boarded the transport that would take them to Fort Abraham. What if something happened while he was gone? What if he was not there when Krystal needed him? He had these concerns and many more as he buckled into the dropship. Yet he stowed such questions as they were of no use and impractical at heart. Fox had promised he would take care of her, and he did not now the vulpine to lie. She was safe, it was Miyu that he should worry about.

The spartan looked to his left at the feline strapped into her seat, the lynx bouncing animatedly in her seat as her curious paws sporadically roamed across her new armor, something that Six had molded just for her. Originally he had been making one for each of the members of Starfox, but had pooled his resources and efforts instead to finish one suit before he would have to leave.

Truly it was not all that special, nothing like his MJOLNIR. It was just a fairly identical variation on the ODST's battle dress uniform, if somewhat altered, interwoven sheets of titanium reinforced with a lining of ballistic plate and kevlar and created with a cornerian's body format in mind. It would still be only moderately effective against plasma weapons, but would outperform most if not all CDF designed armor systems. It was his way of trying to protect her when he himself could not.

As he had hoped, her reception of the armor was positive... perhaps more that he had expected. It had been difficult to not fall over when tackled with a fully armed and armored feline on a direct intercept course. Even as they had both left the armory she had been chatting away at all the things she was going to add to it when they got back. For now it was just the stark, uniform black reserved for helljumper battalions.

Six left Miyu to her own devices and last minute examination of her suit as he scrutinized the rest of the empty troop compartment. The transport was small for what the spartan was used to, designed to accommodate perhaps ten fully armored soldiers and whatever excess supplies they brought with them. However, with just the two of them and their gear, it was fairly spacious, which was to say that for once he did not have to bump shoulders with anyone.

Lifting his forearm, he took a moment to study his TACPAD, the device's telemetry software indicating that they were not that far from the military installation and that it had been a smart idea to connect with the cornerian navigational grid.

Imparted with the knowledge that they were close to their destination, Six readied to unbuckle his harness and made sure that his weapons were still firmly secured to his armor's magnetic coils sequestered within the heavy plate as he performed another weapon's check.

Not knowing what level of opposition to expect, he had decided on a heavy combat load to err on the side of caution. The dual bandoliers on his breastplate were packed with shells for his shotgun, the rest of his standard munitions and a few dozen slugs that Slippy had designed that were color marked a dark blue. He had yet to test this new type of ammunition, but Slippy assured him they would function as directed.

The ammo pouches scattered about his MJOLNIR were crammed with as many rifle magazines as he could safely carry and his right thigh plate's mag slot was occupied by the handgun Miyu had gifted him. The magnetic connection on his opposite side carried a large, cylindrical cartridge that was a secondary reload for his heavy weapon.

Burdened by such an abnormally substantial array of armaments was unusual for the spartan, as was more used to a lighter, more versatile equipment loadout, more often than not scrounging weapons and ammo as he moved about the field. But considering the uncertain nature of this assignment he wanted to be ready for any feasible eventuality.

"Hey Six, I think the ship's landed."

Reinserting a slug he had been examining for defects back into its slot on a bandolier, Six recognized Miyu's observation with a nod of his head and pressed the button at the center of the coupling that secured him to his seat. With the release activated the straps popped open, allowing them to move about the interior as they ramp began its descent.

Sparring little time the pair of mercenaries disembarked from the shuttle where a bird in CDF green awaited them. The avian indicated that they were to follow her and the duo was quick to do so. As they traveled deeper into the internals of Fort Abraham, Six compared this stopover with his first and it did seem as if the cornerian army, or rather the General had taken his warnings and advice to heart.

The spartan discerned a visible increase in the quantity of personnel and vehicles that were nearly double that of his last visit. The open fields scattered about the fortress that had been silent were now livened by the echoing howl of drill sergeants and the familiar synchronized shouts of PT drills. In his opinion it was about time this place started to look like an actual military base.

Passing a motor pool where he could see several technicians inspecting the inner mechanics of a tank, they arrived at the doors to the large building situated at the heart of the compound, the exterior of the structure bristling with anti-armor and aircraft batteries that appeared recently installed and Six wondered how much force the UNSC would need to take the installation.

Leaving his thoughts of conquest at the door, he and Miyu followed the military aid through a series of winding corridors and then an elevator, followed by another set of hallways before they finally stopped at another set of doors where the attaché left them before disappearing down a passageway.

Looking to Miyu, who merely shrugged at him, Six placed a gauntlet on the door and pushed it open, revealing a commodious area with a large wooden table at the center that was ringed with chairs, a briefing room in all appearance.

Inside, they were quick to notice that the General was already there, the old canine sitting at the far end at the head, and was deep in discussion with the only other occupant of the chamber besides them. For a moment Six was taken back at seeing this individual, surprised at what he saw. In all his days amongst the cornerian people, he had yet to find anyone that was in any way close to his stature, yet the enormous female currently conversing with Pepper was perhaps his equal in stature outside of his MJOLNIR, if not a few centimeters shorter.

Then a memory hit him, back on Zoness there had been that one female. And the pieces clicked together. This woman was the same he had seen before, though now he was able to see her face. A short, blunt feline muzzle and starkly snowy fur lined in black. Though he had never seen one in person, he was certain that she was of a species that had once inhabited the artic regions of Earth some centuries ago.

He might have taken a few more moments to garner a more detailed study if not for Pepper who turned to greet them with a friendly wave of his paw and gestured for them to approach. "Six, it's good that you've finally arrived. And it looks like Fox decided to offer another member of his crew. I'm sure this venture could make use of your skills Miss Lynx. Please come sit, there's much to discuss."

Knowing that the General was not one to stand on tradition, Six forestalled his instinctive need to salute a superior officer and instead complied with the aged canine's request, taking a seat across from the large female tiger where Miyu joined him.

"A bit of introductions first," Pepper inclined his muzzle towards the gigantic feline. "Commander Nadia Ivanova, this is Spartan B312, otherwise known as Noble Six, and as I'm sure you recognize Miss Lynx from Starfox."

Though the tiger's gaze had yet to divert its focus on the spartan since he entered, the feline did lean over the table and offer her paw in greetings. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person." Her voice was deep for a female, and thick with an accent he could not quite pin, though it did sound somewhat Slavic in origin.

Barring any trace of hesitation, Six was swift to accept her offered limb, noticing the not unimpressive strength to her grip as he matched her stare, the feline's piercing blue eyes openly examining him in turn. Her eyes were truly like a beast's, expressive and yet feral. Even out of her armor, her paw was nearly equal in size to that of his hand, and Six wondered how well she fought in a melee. No doubt she was a terror on the field.

"Likewise Ma'am." He responded to her greetings as they disengaged from each other's probing.

While the massive tiger gripped Miyu's paw in welcome, Six turned to address Pepper, smiling at the lynx's wince of discomfort.

"Are there any updates on the situation?"

"I'm afraid not, communication is still down and the probe we sent to Katina has yet to report in. As of this moment, we can officially conclude that this was no accident. Some unknown force has deliberately isolated the planet. Before you arrived, Miss Ivanova and I were discussing what we might be facing. And yes, she had been fully briefed on possible aparoid involvement."

That was good, he would have suggested that himself if she had not already been made aware. It would have been foolish to leave out what could be a critical detail.

"Standard Covenant invasion tactics are similar to what we have been noticing thus far. Full comms blackout from the targeted planet was usually initiated hours before their advent. If the OPFOR is following a similar plan, than we must admit to the possibility that Katina has already succumbed to enemy forces."

Pepper sighed heavily, a paw massaging the bridge of his snout. "Katina was one of our most heavily defended worlds, to think that it could fall in a few days..."

"It is possible that it still holds and the forces planetside are simply unable to bypass the planetary jamming, or that there is no opposing force at all, though I highly doubt that."

"I agree with the spartan." Nadia interjected with a nod in his direction. "A world does not arbitrarily go silent; something else is responsible for this. Whether or not Katina is still in CDF control is what we must determine."

"What was the local fleet's strength?" Miyu inquired.

"Most of the flotilla is still recuperating and scattered about the system so Katina only had a moderate garrison, less than a handful of cruisers and a fleet carrier." Pepper answered as a small holo display lit up at the center of the table with a diagram of the ships in question.

"Then we can extrapolate that any CDF fleet assets in the sector have either fled or been destroyed." Any form of assault on a planetary scale, regardless what manner of aggressor they were to be, was almost always spearheaded by an overwhelming force in comparison to the defenders. So it was prudent to assume that any manner of orbital CDF defensive power was either negated or entirely eliminated.

"I feel I should agree with you, Spartan. But I cannot in good conscience write off those brave soldiers." Pepper declared with a firm shake of his head. "They might still be fighting."

Six could not withhold the sense of irritation that formed in his thoughts at the aged canine's optimism.

"That is a possibility, but it is not wise to hold on to false hope. Do not discount my years of experience, General. I have an extensive knowledge of fighting an enemy that is in nearly every way superior. If this war is to even be a fraction of what I believe it might become, if we are right in assuming the callous and overwhelming nature of our foes, a leader cannot be allowed to formulate such fanciful delusions of naivety." It did not sit well with Six to speak so bluntly with someone that was in fact far above him in the chain of command, neither did it appear so for all those present as well, but if the General was to continue his sympathetic and passionate perspective about the welfare of his soldiers, than this war was already as good as lost.

And the spartan was not willing to accept defeat so easily. These cornerians had waged war with a moral righteousness, which while commendable, would not see them survive the likes of the Covenant or an equally cruel and powerful enemy. They would need to be hardened, molded and cast in a determination to survive that was as solid and immutable as steel.

Still he found his tone growing softer. Six did not want to crush that which made them so unique when equated to humanity. There was an innate virtuous candor that he had come to respect and did not want to smother. "Do not mistake my words as harsh or uncaring, Pepper. But to become too attached to those you send to fight and die is not healthy for you or for them. It is a soldier's lot in life to offer his life in service for his nation, but it is a leader's to offer guidance and wisdom. Such is the ways of war, as they always have been and always will be."

There was a moment of muteness in the room as Pepper's wizened visage hardened at the undeniable truth in the spartan's words. It was not the hardness of anger, but of realization, and the old canine nodded with a momentous weight to his movements.

"You... are right spartan. Perhaps these years of sporadic conflict have dulled my understanding of the larger picture. But I expect you will understand if I do not completely disregard the foundations of my career. Call it foolish, but I will never, not worry for the lives of my subordinates. However I will not be so blinded as to not make difficulty decision should they become necessary. I hope that will be enough for you to."

"It will have to be." The spartan decided, as he was not intent on wasting his time attempting to alter the General's core values.

With that topic discussed and shelved, the rest of the meeting passed fairly swiftly. Intel was limited to what they already knew and what they could safely speculate. As such there was not much else to deliberate upon. An hour into the conference and it was concluded. Six was to take operational control of the mission, with Nadia acting as his co-commander.

Preparations had been made to depart for Katina in a few hours' time. Nadia's squad had by the dialogue's conclusion, boarded the cruiser that was to take them to their destination. All that was left was to take a transport up to orbit, and not willing to prolong the assignment, Six and Miyu dismissed themselves from the General's presence and made for the airfield. However, before they had traveled too far down the building's corridor, the large presence of Miss Ivanova caught up to them.

The towering stripped feline easily fell into step with the determined spartan's pace, following him and his companion as they made their way. For a few moments there was silence between the three. But that was soon rectified when Miyu thought to strike up conversation with the other female who she would in all possibility be spending quite a bit of time with.

"So..." the lynx started off uncertainly, hoping to uncover the make and measure of the markedly larger and more exotic feline. "Haven't seen all that many tigers in the CDF."

Nodding sternly, the other cat focused her primal gaze upon the lynx. "Yes... most of our people prefer to remain of Fichina, but on occasion we do travel off world for our own reasons. As one might expect given our... attributes, most tend to gravitate towards the military." At that her eyes roved towards the armored visage of the spartan spearheading the group. "When first I laid my eyes upon you Noble Six, I had thought you one of my species, but now Pepper has seen fit to include me in the secret and true nature of your existence."

The spartan at first offered nothing but a polite not, but realizing that his usual habit of remaining aloof from those he did not normally associate with, would not be viable in the coming days, at least towards the one who was to be his co-commander. "Good..." He decided that should be of sufficient quality for a response.

Miyu chuckled; nudging the spartan's side with an elbow as she looked to the larger cat apologetically. "Sorry about that, he's not all that talkative to strangers. Give him some time, and I'm sure he'll warm up to ya."

Surprisingly, the tiger shook her muzzle. "It is perfectly alright Miyu. The males of my species often act in such a way, and are mostly introverted by nature. Truly it in actuality is quite a pleasant reminder of my home. I shall respect your desire for solitude, Noble Spartan." She acquiesced with a deferential lowering of her enormous head in his direction.

"...Thank you..." The human warrior replied after a few moments, though his tone was significantly warmer than last.

"Of course." Nadia answered before shifting her efforts at conversation to the far more sociable lynx.

Six let the two talk in peace as he shifted his thoughts inward, pondering at the possible stakes of this assignment. For him, there was more riding on this than the siege of Reach. In those days, if he failed, it would simply mean that he would die. If he failed now, everyone he had ever come to care for would die as well. And that was something he did not ever wish to occur. As long as he possessed blood in his body and strength in his muscles he would fight to the bitter end to protect them.

His instincts were what kept him alive where others had failed. And he had come to rely upon them and nothing else in his ceaseless battles against the Covenant and Insurrection. Yet for the first time since the day he picked up a rifle, he prayed that his instincts were wrong.


	32. When It All Falls Down

Chapter 30: When It All Falls Down

 

"Just wait here for a moment, little one. I'll be gone for just a few minutes." Krystal gestured for Silver to take a seat at one of the common room's couches and the wolf pup unlatched himself from her side and quickly moved to obey, flopping heavily into the silky pliancy of the expensive cushions with a heavy sigh and a slightly distended belly as he shifted his youthfully capricious attention span to the television across from him.

For a second the vixen smiled at the memory of the previous break of day as she placed a guiding paw on the wall and slowly limped her way into the room. Silver had performed the same morning routine he had settled into for the past few days, which consisted of a hectic attack upon her mattress as he urged the female to wake up for breakfast. It was a habit she had a feeling would become permanent for the duration of his stay with Starfox. As this was perhaps the only time in his life where he could not only reliably find a meal, but consume as much as he could physically devour and fit into his adolescent stomach, the childish lupine had come to anticipate his meals with near fervent enthusiasm.

Yet she was more than content with pampering him in this small indulgence. She sought at every available opportunity to give him the devotion and love every young pup deserved. And in doing so, she had grown irrefutably fond of the little rascal, and he was never all that far from her presence either.

A percentage of her, one Krystal tried to deny in part to its egotism, had perhaps only clung to the child as a result of her current mating cycle, predisposed maternal instinct latching onto the unexpected variable that was Silver. But no matter if that was true, the affection she felt for Silver was not born of her sudden desire for some young to nurture. She genuinely cared for the young wolf, and saw something inside him that perhaps warmheartedly reminded her of a certain dour individual. However different Silver was in his view on life, she often saw him make the very same expression Six would habitually adopt whenever he encountered some aspect of society that particularly baffled him.

And as days had soon stretched into weeks with no sign or word from the noble soldier or Miyu, Krystal grasped for anything that could bring her some relief in her time of uncertainty. It was no comfort to her that Pepper as well had seemingly lost contact with the next scouting party he had diverted to Katina. And in a series of events that worried not only her, but the rest of the team as well, for the past few days, the cornerian fleet had seen an exponential rise in manufacturing and enlistment.

Already the space-docks were each occupied by the skeletal beginnings of several battleships and other lower tonnage fleet craft, with similar news emerging from Eladard, Fortuna, and Aquas. These were all the marks of a civilization's preparations for an imminent conflict, which only drove Krystal's fears further onwards as she longed for Six and Miyu to come back to her.

Yet the presence of Silver had been paramount in offering her some ease of mind. The rascally pup was a great source of lighthearted interaction that the vixen desperately found herself needing, which brought her to the reason she had asked Fox to meet with her in one of the private rooms nearby.

Though he was busy as of late holding clandestine meetings with General Pepper, she had finally managed to both collect the courage she needed and found a few moments where Fox was not occupied with whatever it was he so poorly tried to hide from her and the rest of the team. And perhaps that knowledge that he seemed to know something and was keeping them away from it, was enough cause that she needed to press her inquiry.

Whatever it may be, she was both gladdened and concerned when Fox finally arrived, the vulpine appearing somewhat bedraggled as he made his way over to her. Krystal did not wish to burn any nerve she possessed on inconsequential formality and quickly gestured to the closed door beside her before stepping inside.

Compared to most of the lavish furnishing and size devoted to a majority of The Great Fox's interior construction. This room and the other ones connected to it were at one point during the initial plans drawn up for the dreadnought, designed to accommodate the lower caste of personal assigned to such a vessel. But with the relatively barebones integer that currently presided in the starship, such quarters had been formed into ad-hock, and more private areas of relaxation. Each of course remained in possession of a cot and other various dormitory fixtures that had been installed originally, but had since been somewhat converted to a more informal and relaxed arrangement, something more like to be found on a starliner then a military dorm.

Deciding to occupy one of the chairs ringing a small metal table, she carefully set herself down with a momentary wince of pain in her lower back that soon faded to a dull twinge that she could ignore if she focused hard enough. Having only just managed to pull away from her wheeled prison the day before, the vixen had yet to fully regain control over her unutilized extremities. In all probability, if not for Silver's help, she would not have been able to walk her way down to the common room. Thankfully, the pup seemed keen to make himself useful, and had taken to his improvised role as her assistant with boundless eagerness. She really was grateful for his presence, with Six and Miyu gone, and unwilling to pester the others with her concerns, she had been undergoing some private difficulty with her mobility.

Krystal groaned inaudibly and kneaded the sore muscles in her back as she looked to the doorway, watching as Fox entered and set himself across from her with a tired sigh. From the short span of steel tabletop separating them, Krystal was able to get a closer look at her friend, noticing the true depth of his exhaustion. A slight flare of concern and pity upwelled from inside her, as she realized that the disappearance of two of his teammates as well as whatever he so tenaciously withheld from them, had taken a toll on the tod.

"So... you wish to discuss the future of Silver I take it?"

Krystal was somewhat taken aback by the vulpine's easy deduction of why she had called upon him, or at least that he had been so blunt about it. The male must truly be drained to forego his usual warmth and welcoming personality.

Feeling a not insubstantial portion of her resolve quaver, she nodded her head sternly; taking in that moment a lesson she had learned from Six's stalwart mannerism.

"You are correct."

Fox leaned heavily into his chair at that, the tod rubbing at his brow tiredly. "Yes, I had assumed after your tenth or so appeal to lengthen his stay that you had something more permanent in mind. And I really do agree with you on some level. The kid's had it rough, even Falco admitted to that. And I won't deny that he seems content enough here as is..."

Krystal sensed that there was a strong 'but' coming along with this, and she was soon to be found correct.

"But... a mercenary outfit is not exactly the best place for a kid. I mean we live mostly on an active warship that frequently finds itself charging headfirst into conflict zones. Not to mention that we cannot within the realm of law, keep an unregistered minor. He'd have to be logged in the orphan registry and then adopted before we could even get that far. Then there's the matters with the courts and the paperwork to be signed till anyone could take him on."

"I would be willing to do all this to have him." Krystal spoke quickly and with quiet determination, almost before Fox finished talking. "And the risks would not be any more dangerous than the way he had been living before."

Fox closed his eyes and bowed his head, sighing softly as he propped his muzzle up with an arm, perhaps the only thing preventing him from collapsing. "I know that you are rather... attached to the child. Everyone, even Slippy likes the kid too. Hell, I like the damn kid. Silver's got spirit, and resilience to match it. But... do you really think he'd be happy here?"

Krystal considered the vulpine's words seriously, and came to a decision easily. After all the time she had spent with him the answer was all but apparent.

"Yes... I really think he will."

Fox's emerald gaze slowly peeled open, focusing in on the vixen with intensity unmatched by any but Noble Six. "Krystal, I am going to be deathly direct with my next question. Are you certain that this is not all because of... recent developments? I know you took a heavy blow at Six and Miyu's disappearance, everyone did. And I am only pressing this subject to be fair with the child. He's been through a hell of a lot. I won't have him used simply to make you feel better."

The vixen's fur bristled and she felt the hackles around her neck rise as she quelled the furious rage that erupted within her without warning at Fox's very blunt accusation. To think he could possibly consider she'd want the child just to fill some... some... fucking hole in her heart...

A loud crash filled the silence of the room as Krystal brought a clawed paw slamming into the small table with sufficient enough force to warp the thin metal, her jaws snapping shut with the clack of sharp fangs as a reverberant growl boomed within the confines of her throat. "Do not assume I would act so selfishly, Fox." She snarled through clenched teeth. "This is as much for Silver as it is for me. He needs a home, an honest home with a real bed and people who care enough to give him the damned support he deserves... not that... that farce of a life he was living before."

Her scowl deepened as she recalled all that the child had told her, the make and measure of his daily desperations. "That is no way for a child to live! And I intend with every fiber of my being to right such a wrong, whether or not I have your consent."

In the aftermath of her thunderous voice, the room took upon itself a deafening silence where even her own ears were ringing, and Krystal wondered that she had been so loud. She had not even been aware that she raised her voice till she had finished railing Fox with her thoughts.

To his credit, the vulpine did not show any adverse reaction to her response, instead he nodded to himself with an irritatingly smug grin as he moved to stand. "Well that about clears it up for me. I'm putting you on two days, paid vacation."

Krystal spluttered as she choked on the saliva that had been pooling in her mouth. "W-what?' She stuttered weakly, her righteous rage vanishing as quickly as it had manifested.

"Two days, that should be long enough for you to do what you need to." Fox replied with a frankness that kept her from fully reassembling her thoughts. "Oh... and while you're out, can you please get that poor pup some decent clothes?"

Smiling at the utterly befuddled look on the vixen's muzzle, Fox departed the room where he saw the young lupine lazily stretched out across a couch, his paw hovering over the remote for the television that so thoroughly engaged him. The child's eyes roved across the chamber till they landed on the tod, stiffening slightly as he noticed the owner of the vessel he had come to call home for the past week and onwards.

Before he could say anything the vulpine flashed the child a toothy grin and snapped his furred digits as he pointed finger guns at the staring child, clicking his teeth with his tongue.

"Eh... stay out of trouble for the next few days, sport."

Confused, the youth simply nodded in reply and watched as the male fox strolled out of the common room. A few moments later the vixen that had taken such a keen interest in him reappeared from the room they had entered and seemed somewhat out of sorts.

Concerned, the child rolled off the couch and arrested his fall with his feet before stumbling up to her. "Miss Krystal... is something the matter? Are you alright?" He asked fearfully. She had accomplished much in the past few weeks to earn both his worry and his trust. She was there for him whenever and wherever he needed her, almost like a mother would. Though he was far too afraid to ever call her that to her muzzle, he did think it at times.

The female did not answer him for some time, though her expression slowly warmed to that look he had come to admire so much as she turned to regard him with a soft, growing smile and a tender voice. "How would you feel about calling me mom instead?"

 

*****

 

Fox did not bother to linger, trusting that Krystal would prefer to handle the rest of the details herself. Truthfully, he still held a hundred-and-one concerns about allowing Silver to stay. But he decided that if the worst were to indeed happen. He would in all likelihood actually be safer with them then on any one planet. In fact he had hardly been able to focus on Krystal's conversation.

Sleep had swiftly turned into a commodity these past days, and he had hardly slept since the cruiser with Six and Miyu aboard, missed their first check in... as had the next cruiser Pepper sent. That had been a serious blow to his morale as well as that of the crew, yet he did not and could not count them out. After all, Six had been presumed dead once before. Fox had learned that it took a hell of a lot to kill a spartan, and Miyu was just as tenacious.

Still, his life had turned into nothing but strategy meetings and cloistered conferences with the admiralty and Prime Minister. There was little doubt now that some force was arrayed against them, and the civilians were starting to question why they couldn't reach their family on Katina, and why the flights stopped between the two planets some weeks ago. Thankfully, the combination of false news reports and a military blockade quarantining all known space routes to Katina and back, made most consider it as simply a result of some industrial accident in orbit that rendered such traffic dangerous. It was an insubstantial story, one that was not to hold for long, but for now it kept the civilians mollified.

Fox yawned, straining to grasp the ebbing tide of alertness he could already feel leaving him. Even now he was scheduled to meet Pepper again to discuss a topic he was not entirely looking forward to. It had come to the General's attention that if the Aparoids were a true and present danger, that it was perhaps time Fox saw to increase the capacity of his crew. The ship could hold more than five times was currently staffing it, and Pepper seemed to believe that The Great Fox could see to gain from carrying a more sizeable fighter and groundside capability. Indeed if this was a war to outstrip all previous, such might be more a necessity than a good idea.

That did not mean he would have to accept such a change so easily. Starfox had been built on the foundation of a smaller, more familial group, and this change would destroy what his father had created. If not for Peppy's advice, he would not have even considered this, yet the hare spoke truth as he was like to do.

James's legacy not the ship itself, but the memories and stories of its crew, and perhaps that this change was indeed for the better.

Sometimes he hated that damn rabbit.

"What's this, off to talk with Pepper again?"

Fox stopped in the hall as he watched Katt and Fay make their way towards him, the two females ducking out from within the workshop as he had passed by. Nodding to answer their question, he foisted some premeditated excuse upon them. The rest of Starfox was not too curious yet why he so frequently went out to speak with Pepper, and he hoped to belay that conversation for as long as he could.

"Could you pick up some things on your way back?" Fay asked hopefully. "We'd been just about to leave, but if you're already going..."

"Sure no prob." He nodded. "Just message me what it is and I'll swing by the market to grab it."

"Thanks Fox, you're a lifesaver. Now I can finally kick Fay's ass at that stupid game of hers that she keeps wailing about." Katt nudged the canine teasingly. "What was it called again? Call of Enormously Innovative what?"

Fay sighed, her chops burning in embarrassment as she muttered. "Call of Infinitely Advanced Warfare 4. I just got all the DLC's."

At that Katt exploded uproariously into laughter as she slapped the spaniel on her back. "Next time somebody asks me for another sixty credits of paid content I'll sock em a good one for trying to extort me."

Rolling his eyes, Fox said his goodbyes to the pair and, with no other interruption, departed from the ship. His good mood soured by worrying thoughts.

Just where the hell are you, Six?

 

Concerning him perhaps more than the aparoids was the fact both the spartan and Miyu were unable to be contacted, where in fact a whole world could not be reached. If this was how the aparoids waged war, if they could so effortlessly silence an entire planet, then he was terrified to fight them, all the more so that Six and Miyu were gone.

Both were his best boots on the ground, and now he did not even know if they were alive. This vexed him, but more than that, it made him fear the possibilities. If they were... dead, then there was perhaps no chance to win.

If they could kill a spartan, after everything Fox had seen him accomplish, then what chance did they have?

No.

He would not entertain the chance of losing. They would win, defeat was not an option. If the aparoids finally revealed themselves they would quickly learn why the CDF had repelled Andross at every turn. He would do everything in his power to protect Fara and his family, as was befitting of any Mccloud.

Fox reached for his waist as he waited at an intersection for the pedestrian light, inspecting the circular device clasped to his belt, the alien contraption humming quietly as it unceasingly preformed its sole function. The vulpine recalled the last conversation he had with Six as he studied the strange apparatus, what was from the spartan's description, some form of shielding, much like what the human's armor used and a far superior replacement to his old deflector.

Six had stressed to him its importance, that the one he had given both himself and Krystal were irreplaceable, and were the culmination of countless hours of labor and one-off alien technology. If they broke, there would be no substitutions.

The vulpine just hoped it would not be the last gift he would ever receive from the spartan. He could do little else but continue to believe in the hope that his friends were still alive and well wherever they were. Starfox... his family, would never again be the same without the human supersoldier and the fiery lynx.

The pedestrian icon flashed white and Fox joined the crowd, the male's thoughts still lingering on his errant companions.

 

*****

 

Silver shifted uncomfortably in the stiff backed chair he had been wiggling about on for the past several hours. The young lupine's discomfort however carried past the rigid and inert seat. Anxious blue eyes roved across the small waiting room, their owner observing the pale white walls and opposite row of equally unpleasant chairs as he waited for Miss Krystal to reemerge from the office at the end of the chamber.

The magazine in his lap had long ago ceased to be of any interest to him, leaving the pup to count the checkerboard tiling of the floor in a poor effort to alleviate his boredom. However, it did give him more than enough time to think, and he certainly had a lot to think about.

Silver had already dragged his thoughts back to his interim with these kind people more than once as he sat in the definite silence, each recollection of his wondering at what exactly he had done to so easily intertwine himself with the most famous individuals in all of Lylat. Of all the billons of souls he could have imprinted upon, he had unwittingly managed to grab the attention of the Starfox team. He was a nobody, a nothing, someone you would hardly notice on the streets. Yet here he was, sitting in the waiting room of an adoption agency, waiting for the papers to be finalized.

The wolf child could certainly admit that he had not seen this development coming. Even after Miss Krystal had asked him it had not truly hit him till the moment they travelled through the city and stepped inside the building.

He was an orphan no longer.

That was...

Silver could not accurately describe the feeling.

Undoubtedly there was relief, even perhaps joy, yet all the same a small part of him felt... numb. There were too many emotions running through his mind for him to experience one for more than a few seconds, and even then he hardly noticed its passing for the next, too preoccupied with more earthen thoughts.

Did he call Miss Krystal mom now? Was Mister Six his father? What did that make the other members of the Starfox team? He had hardly even had a chance to meet the male he might call dad before he went off on an assignment that he had yet to return from weeks hence. It was too much with too little time to come to terms.

Would he have to start going to school? Would any school even take him? What would he do now that he no longer had to fight for scraps?

With considerations like these it was little wonder that the small collection of reading material set out for him was for the most part ignored as he started to wonder.

Why were they doing this? Why invest so much in a stupid kid like him? They certainly had to gain something out of it? He just could not see what. But he was confident that he would not have to wait long now for it to become known to him. Surely once they returned Miss Krystal and the others would drop the benevolent exteriors they had been maintaining. It would all be one huge joke at his expense and it would be back to the streets from there. Or perhaps not, he had hardened himself to good fortune, having experienced nothing but the opposite in his short life.

He told himself, there and now in that instant, to steel himself for the impending moment when the carpet of pleasantness would be ripped out from underneath him.

The young lupine froze at the sound of the far door opening, watching with uncertain eyes as Miss Krystal reemerged from within the confines of the office, the vixen mid-discussion with the elderly mouse that owned and operated this particular organization. His blood chilled and he felt his fur prickle as she finished her conversation with a small smile before turning towards him.

As she approached he kept telling himself to expect the worst, the adolescent trembling in sickly anticipation. It was all just a joke, she had never wanted him anyways, none of them had wanted him, they were just using him as a game, they never liked him, he would be alone on the streets again, he would be cold, he would be scared, he would b-

His inner babbling and turmoil was swept up and swaddled in an overarching sense of warmth that he discovered was not entirely mercurial, and he found all his wild fears and scattered concerns vanishing within the calming embrace of a feeling he wished not to fade.

Silver sat in the chair dumbfounded as Miss Krystal squeezed him tight, the vixen holding him snuggly as if she feared he might float away. And in that moment she whispered two simple words that would stay with him for as long as he lived.

"My son."

 

*****

 

That night there was a small celebration onboard the Great Fox in commemoration of the newest member of the Starfox family. Though it was the first, it was also the strangest party Silver had ever been a part to. Juice flowed freely, anything harder having been shelved for the moment considering his age, and he was allowed to experience the rare treat of Miss Krystal's cooking, what was in all ways superior to that of any machine's capabilities to fabricate. Though... he was not sure if he should call her mom, the thought was... strange still. The idea was a hard one to grasp, and he knew it would be a while before he would be comfortable enough to consider that.

All in all, it was an enjoyable event, everyone was friendly and seemed for all intents and purposes to be happy with his permanence amongst them, though he often found himself in awkward conversation. With such mythic figures, it was hard for him to discover how to properly interact with them, and there were more than a few quite moments. Somehow, thankfully, he was able to endure the attention, and even had some genuine fun as he found himself roped into an intense video game match or two with the younger and more spirited members of the team

By the time the celebration petered off, when some few hours had passed and the food was divvied out, the attention around him began to die off. It was then that Mister Lombardi had offered to take him down to the range inside the bowels of the ship, though Miss Krystal had been quick to take him away from there, not before of course scolding the unsurprisingly unrepentant avian.

As they returned back to the common room where Miss Monroe and Spaniel were just finishing cleaning up the party favors, Miss Krystal pulled him to the side to sit at one of the sofas. With little complaint, Silver obediently took his place as directed, not wishing to upset her in any way. Though she had done well to appear otherwise, the pup could tell that she was quite stressed at the moment. He had garnered enough knowledge from his times on the streets to become somewhat aware of other's moods, a skill that had assisted him in avoiding more than a few bad situations.

He also knew that she was so tense because Mister Six had not returned when he should have. Silver did not possess any awareness or understanding of the situation at large, but he grasped enough to know that did not mean well for anyone, Miss Krystal especially.

The vixen placed a paw on his shoulder, turning his attention outwards as she spoke softly, appearing troublingly tired as she did. "Now Silver, seeing as you will be staying here indefinitely, I think it's time we see about getting you a room of your own. I'm sure you'll be glad for the space. Don't you think?"

"Yes Miss Krystal." He nodded his head dutifully, trying to not stare at the deeply etched bags underneath her eyelids. Silver recalled that she had been busy all day, running through the city and sitting in offices, all in an effort to finish the papers that would legally bind him to her. However, he knew that not all of those lines were from her work today.

The female did a lot for him, had pushed to be allowed to take him under her wing, and he felt some form of obligatory concern for her, as well as a great deal more personal worry. "Are you alright, Miss Krystal?"

The vixen smiled and patted his head at his words as she motioned for him to follow her. "Of course sweetie, nothing a good few hours of sleep won't cure. Now then, let's get you settled little one."

Unwilling to argue with his guardian, Silver dutifully followed after her and buried his misgivings as they entered the main access corridor, soon arriving at the hall reserved for personnel quarters. Passing five or six doors down, they stepped at the one right next to that where she herself slept, and the vixen gestured at it invitingly. "This room is perfect. It's right across from me so that if you need anything I'll only be a few steps away." 

Lowering herself to kneel beside him, the female fox wrapped him up in one last hug and with a parting goodnight, she entered her own room with a near unnoticeable limp, leaving him to stand in the hall. The young wolf pup stared at his new bedroom, a concept that was something of a novelty for him. To think, only a few weeks ago he had been a homeless youth stranded on the streets, now, he had a family and a bedroom all to himself.

That was quite the step up, though; he could hardly enjoy his achievements as he was reminded of his benefactor's fragile condition. What she needed was Mister Six to come back. Silver had learned in the old days to pray, so after stepping into his room and taking a few minutes to settle in it, he offered up a prayer for Mister Six, that he and Miss Lynx would return safely, for Miss Krystal's wellbeing if not their own.

 

*****

 

A shallow grunt of discomfort easing past her lips, Krystal gingerly set herself down upon the enticing softness of her mattress and eased back into its cushioned encirclement. In that moment as she felt the muscles in her lower back spasm infrequently, she wished that she had heeded MAD's advice and just taken the walking cane. Yet a stubborn streak from her old prideful nature had prevented her from taking the offered assistance, certain in that moment that she could walk unaided.

Some two weeks later and a particular arduous fifteen hours of work shuffling documents and speaking with representatives showed her just how foolish her vanity had been. Nonetheless, she was committed now. Still, she took some pride in her accomplishments despite the factors arrayed against her.

All the same...

Krystal shifted uneasily in her bed, feeling cold and vulnerable on the large paillasse despite any number of blankest she might cover herself in. It was as if there was some intrinsic variable missing that denied her peaceful rest. And though the female did know the exact cause of her disquiet, she did not dwell on it, as she had learned to do so brought nothing but an unpleasant sense of anguish.

The only thing to offer her comfort was the remembrance of a promise that had been made to her, from someone that had never before broken his word. She would find sleep, but not for several hours yet before her exhaustion finally overpowered her. Krystal knew exactly what would return her peace of mind, what would give her a pleasant rest, and all she could do about it was continue to hope for its swift return.

True to form, the vixen laid awake in her bed for a long time before finally succumbing to a fitful and unrestful slumber.

 

*****

 

A piercing, thunderous shriek echoed within his skull, the earsplitting salvo of an artillery battery impacting the concrete barricade less than a meter from his position, the ensuing percussive wave of heat and air sending the spartan hurtling out of cover, armor sparking as it skipped across the ground like a rock tossed upon a lake's surface by an enraged god. 

Seconds passed as he crashed into a poorly erected defensive fortification of scrap metal and what appeared to be the broken remnant of an assault tank. The spartan let loose a reluctant hiss through pursed lips at the stabbing crack of pain in his chest, the concurrent section of his breastplate caved in a shallow divot of a preexisting grievance.

Nevertheless, even as he smashed into the wreckage, the human supersoldier was already in motion. Ignoring the numerous injuries he had sustained since their untoward arrival upon the surface of Katina, the warrior utilized his imparted momentum to roll into a crouched stance, his rifle thundering in deadly fury as he emptied the entirety of its magazine into the lumbering behemoth of chitin and cybernetics as it drunkenly smashed through the military installation's flagging defenses... and watched once more as the heavy munitions exploded harmlessly against the titanic creature's thick armor plating.

In a brief moment of lapsed self-control, the spartan allowed a bitter curse to turn vocal as he once more was confronted by the futility of his actions.

In a split second his assault rifle's hungry belly was filled with a fresh magazine, the spartan shifting its raging maw to engage a pack of the smaller hostiles that swarmed in the wake of the colossal machine. He knew from quickly garnered experience that this tactic proved to be far more effective, the 12.7x108mm rounds easily ripping into the shells of these smaller combatants.

A scattered flurry of red bolts joined his fusillade and the spartan glanced momentarily towards his rear to the small squad of heavily armored soldiers and their much more numerous albeit lesser compatriots who were dispersed through the war ravaged terrain, and upon seeing that the other defenders were finally rearmed and reengaged, he swiftly slipped into a fighting withdrawal to extract himself from the melee and rejoin the frontline. It took the augmented human only moments to cross the mile long stretch of enemy territory before he was once more back within the safety of the hurriedly established defensive position.

There was no rest for Noble Six, the spartan already running a diagnostic on his rifle, the weapon's barrel smoking dangerously from overuse. Two weeks stranded on this planet and he had certainly put the prototype through its paces. The human did eventually turn his attention away from his firearm to acknowledge the approach of the local leadership.

Six took in the scruffy appearance of the beleaguered canine, his armor tarnished with dried blood and grime, yet the stoic grimace of determination had yet to leave the man's expression, which spoke quite highly of his resolve. The spartan had yet to find reason to fault his actions thus far. For the manner of enemy they faced, he had overseen all operations with an impressive tactical expertise.

Lowering his heated weapon, Six cut the canine commander a sharp, albeit brief salute, which was unsurprisingly waived away with a grim chuckle. For as shortly as Six had known him, Lieutenant Colonel Bill Grey was an admirably straightforward individual.

"Excellent work out there, spartan." Bill offered his praise with a short, nearly unnoticed change in his appearance, seeming for a second to be remarkably relieved. "My soldiers are tired enough as it is, and your excursions into enemy hardpoints have done much to alleviate that burden." Even as he spoke, the Lieutenant Colonel looked past the towering supersoldier and watched as the colossal alien machine once more withdrew from the field, an event that seemed almost like clockwork at this point.

Every assault on the installation started in much the same way. The massive rounded walker would smash into the front line, unload its cargo of ground forces, engage CDF armor, and then withdraw before a proper counterattack could be initiated. It was a repetitive, thoughtless tactic, but an effective one nonetheless. If not for the arrival of the spartan and the elite Special Forces team, they might not have been able to hold back the attacks.

Most of the planetary garrison was focused on defending the civilian shelters, leaving the base itself quite vulnerable to attack; a situation the enemy had little qualms with exploiting. Yet with the arrival of even this small team, their efforts had more than tripled their admittedly short odds at surviving, and perhaps even repelling this unusual and utterly tenacious foe.

The hulking soldier alone contributed nearly forty-five percent of mission kills since his arrival. Bill did not know what he would do if the male were to suffer a crippling injury, or worse, be killed. And despite the warrior's continued efforts, and showing little need for respite, Bill could see now more than ever that their best chance at winning was running himself ragged.

The spartan's once stiff and rigid posture was wilting, his armor of heavy azure plates torn and crumpled, no longer was it the pristine, gallant image of a feudal knight. His voice, vacant of that commanding tenacity, was now hoarse and ill-tempered. This was a male who was pushing himself to his limits, and Bill knew if he did not say anything, he would in all likelihood push himself too far. And that would not help anyone.

Bill sighed. "Look Lieutenant... take a few hours to rest, get some chow, see the doc about some of those wounds and get yourself sorted out."

As expected, the soldier immediately tried to protest.

"But Sir..."

 

"No butts, soldier. I'm not interest in any ass. That's an order. You can't fight if you're dead. Now go and rest up. If you don't, I'll send Miyu after you with a field promotion so she can ensure that you'll do as directed."

"That... won't be necessary, Sir." The spartan reluctantly conceded.

It was clear he was more cautious of the lynx than of a superior officer, and that was enough to make the canine chuckle.

"Good, god knows we have little enough time as it is to recuperate before the next assault. I expect you to be as close to a hundred percent as you can be next time that damned walker comes back. Commander Ivanova has apparently drawn up a plan to take that lumbering bastard out. And I'll need you if it is to work."

"Of course, Sir." Six nodded rigidly, more in part to the stiffness of his muscles rather than of any cold intent. Though adorned with an air of reluctance, there was perhaps a near unnoticeable note of relief in his tone, which spoke of the true depth of his fatigue.

Bill dismissed the spartan with a wave in the direction of the barracks building, which as a small blessing had remained reasonably untouched throughout the prolonged conflict. Unfortunately the same could not be said of the motor pool or the command building itself. Most of the base was in ruins, multiple breaches in the fortifications and near a third of their immediate fighting force either dead or walking wounded. With only three landmasters in varying levels of function and maybe four or five strike fighters if they were able to scrounge enough spare parts, Bill hoped that Miss Ivanova's plan had accounted for those details.

"God Damnit, where's Fox when you need him?" Bill wondered with a laugh that was more akin to a grunt. He knew that if Fox and his entire team were here, that they could take down that damned walker on their own. Still, he at least had two of the vulpine's team with him. He didn't know all that much about this spartan, had only heard whispered stories from his soldiers about the strange warrior that had struck fear into the ranks of Venom and then the Remnant. If scuttlebutt was to be believed he had taken a squad of three into the heart of an asteroid installation and extracted valuable Intel with zero casualties. In the orbital battle of Corneria, he had single handedly boarded and seized a venomian dreadnaught. There were a dozen such other tales of his exploits, each more fantastical than the next, and these stories might have seemed preposterous and without basis, and so they were, until that cruiser fell from the sky two weeks ago.

Bill glanced over his shoulder to the receding form of the towering soldier, and to his own soldiers as they gazed upon the larger than life warrior in silent awe. The Lieutenant Colonel had not been with the squad he sent to comb the wreckage, but he had seen everything from the helmet feeds. It had been a risk to send them, but he had to know if that ship was from the garrison.

The taskforce in orbit had been decimated minutes after their arrival. Whatever these... things were, their power was undeniable. He had barely been warned of the attack before he lost connection with the fleet.

Ten minutes later and the sky darkened.

An invasion on a scale he had not seen before, not even at the height of the first Lylat War. Thousands of small ships filled the air with an insectoid buzzing, swarms so thick that they choked the light of the sun and the anti-aircraft batteries ran out of ammunition long before the hordes began to thin. Untold devastation was wrought upon the cities in a matter of hours, skyrises collapsed and entire habitation blocks were razed. It was only owed to the sacrifices made by the local fighter squadrons that they had been able to rescue as many civilians as they had. Three-hundred-and-sixty-three pilots died to buy them time.

And Bill vowed to learn their names and never forget them.

The next few days had him witness the fiercest urban battles of his military career. These creatures were unlike any foe he had ever fought. They did not fight like cornerians or even venomians, where either faction used carefully wrought out tactics and cunning strategy, they merely sought to bury them under the weight of numbers. Entire districts had been bogged down by numberless throngs of chittering monsters, and after the first two days, he had been forced to pull out from the cities he had sworn to defend.

He realized that he could not hold such extensive ground with the limited numbers and resources at his disposal. The choice to split his forces had been a hard, but necessary one. The shelters saw the bulk of the planetary army, leaving him with little under a thousand to hold the largest base on the southern continent. Contact with the other installations was limited and unpleasant. One had already fallen and the others would quickly follow. Supply lines were nonexistent and the thought of reinforcements was laughable.

By his tactician's estimates, they had perhaps another three days before they ran out of provisions and soldiers, and it was the devils bid on which would go first, a fatalistic estimate, but an accurate one.

Or so it had been two weeks ago.

That small team had arrived at the crash site, to the scene of a slaughter.

The end tally to the corpses of their enemy had been somewhere numbering close to a thousand, the sort of kill count they might net on a good day if the winds of luck were behind them. Heaping piles of cybernetic creatures sprawled the immediate horizon, entire lakes of gooey luminescent fluids had been formed in the ditches carved by explosions. They had never before seen the enemy bleed so much.

Though frightened, the scouts pressed on to reconnoiter the interior of the wreckage, more corpses were inside, though they were not hostile in origin. Each body was identified and catalogued in the hopes that they could lay them to rest if they ever did emerge victorious.

However their efforts were halted when they arrived at the ship's hanger. Mostly intact, it appeared that there were indeed survivors of the crash, a hundred or so miserable soles, bloodied and battered, but no less alive. When questioned as to how they had survived the crash, and the subsequent attack that had been so thoroughly bested outside the hull, several shaking paws were directed to the center of the hastily erected command center inside the hulk of a carved out battle tank.

That was where they met him.

Lieutenant Noble Six, one who designated himself as a spartan, nothing more, nothing less. Seemingly it was his actions that saved their lives and repelled the attack, undeniably aided as he was by the Special Forces team, much to the scouts' disbelief. The numbers they saw outside would have easily overwhelmed even a unit of howling wolves.

Such disbelief was suspended after the bedraggled survivors and their escorts came under attack once more on their return. A reconnaissance pack of the enemy, numbering a hundred strong, had come upon them, enough to kill most if not all those present.

That was at least, until the spartan stepped forwards.

Bill still had the footage saved on his command terminal.

One-hundred creatures, butchered in five minutes and forty seconds, an assault so quick that the film had to be slowed to accurately be revised, the canine had never before seen such carnage. It had been war perfected. This spartan was the personification of conflict. His skills in battle flowed like poetry and his valor echoed the bravery of medieval heroes. Such a reference seemed quixotic, but Bill could find no other way to portray it. 

It was that very same warrior that he watched return to the barracks, after spending seventy-eight consecutive hours on the frontlines, reaping casualties untold upon the enemy. He alone had halted their advance, his relentless crusade that caused their foe pause. It was Noble Six who led the push to force the enemy back, who had brought hope to a thousand soldiers who once thought themselves dead, and an entire planet that would have surely been lost without his resolve.

Bill did not believe in legends, hadn't since he was a pup. They had been fables to encourage youths to aspire for better heights, to strive for more. Legends told of heroes and demigods that performed feats beyond that of mere mortals. They fought monsters and wrestled gods. And when he grew older, Bill thought that such folktales did not exist in earthly form.

Nevertheless, as he stood surveying the ravaged field of battle, a desolate warzone created by one, he realized that it was a legend he watched walk away.


	33. When All Is Lost

Chapter 31: When All Is Lost

Miyu smiled when she saw Six enter the barracks, even if she did not feel like she should. The Lynx instead wished to cry, a sentiment that had arisen in the past few days whenever she gazed upon her lover. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes when she looked to the cracked and battered plates of his suit, the rusty brown patches of dried blood spackled on his armor like poorly affixed paint that disfigured the once beautiful, pristine cobalt. And her lips strained to maintain their composure as she studied the crystalline fracture carved across his silver visor.

The male that entered the bedroom appeared more dead than alive.

All the same she brushed her despair away and stood up to greet him, enveloping the spartan in her arms and holding him tightly, uncaring of the still wet fluids that stained her bodysuit, or the unpleasant smell that seemed permanently infused into his exoskeletal mail.

She only cared about not letting him go.

Her muzzle tried to form words, but she refrained, holding back the desire to speak. She did not try to tell him of her disapproval, not after their last argument. Instead she slipped a shoulder underneath his arm, and with a mighty grunt of exertion, helped the spartan to the bed. The military cot, the frame a steel rectangle bolted into the wall, took his weight fine, though the mattress suffered in silence as the stuffing was violently displaced by his impressive encumbrance.

The human made a motion upwards, and Miyu, picking up on it easily as the start of a now inured ritual, helped him unclasp the seals of his helmet. The sharp displacement of filtered oxygen filled the silent room with noise only briefly before she took the heavy construct of solid steel and laid it underneath the cot's overhang.

The feline once more held back her tears, this time with considerable more effort, as she moved a paw to gently brush across his gaunt countenance, tracing a thumb across the darkness under his eyes as she brought up the other with a dry wash cloth to wipe away the crimson dribble crusting on the corner of his mouth.

"Are... are you okay?" Her own voice sounded alien to her, quiet and dry, almost as hoarse as it would be after a night of heavy drinking. Supplies were low, and seeing as she did not fight as often as the other soldiers, she usually skipped out on her water rations, or slipped them to Six whenever he was out in the field.

"Cracked rib... I think." The spartan answered haltingly, his response obstructed by a shallow grunt of pain as he uneasily shifted himself to a somewhat more comfortable position. "That machine thing came back again..." He released a thin gasp. "Left sooner than last time though."

Miyu nodded politely, more to humor him with a response as she focused on doing her best to wipe away the grime on his appearance. The hair on his face had started to grow again, not thickly, but no longer unnoticeable. She noted that unlike usual, he had yet to trim it. In her opinion he looked attractive with the beard, but it worried her that he neglected himself like this. She knew that in any other instance he would have removed it.

However, after his third pained exhale, she shifted her attention, lowering him down to recline upon the cot. Five days ago, and he would have protested. Now he let her move him without complaint.

"Please... rest." She insisted as she laid his head in her lap. It had been three days since Miyu last saw him, and each time he left he was gone for longer, and came back with more injuries. It arrived to a point where she no longer knew what to say to him. When he did return he was exhausted, and if prodded, irritable. The feline brushed her paw through his unkempt hair, more to ease herself than to comfort him.

The lynx was afraid, for Six, for herself, for everyone.

Twelve days ago he had finally confided in her what he knew about these creatures, what he called the aparoids, the strange word she heard during the briefing now given severe significance. Needless to say it had been a crash course in education.

She remembered yelling at him, calling him a varying sort of unkind names as he endured the brunt of it with stoic silence. After all, he had kept not only a secret from her, but one that was of near unbelievably vast portent. It was some time before she forgave him, and by then he had already been throwing himself into this fight with resolute, but reckless abandon. And for the first time she was able to witness him fight without restraint.

And it was terrifying.

The word defensive did not apply to the spartan when he reached the pinnacle of his bloodletting. He did not seek cover, pause to regroup, nor wait for support. He was in and of himself, a tool of superbly fashioned, merciless, offensive devastation. It was awesome to behold, watching a monolithic figure crash into a surge of opponents with little regards to fear or personal endangerment like a blood glutted berserker. He waded through the throngs of hostile creatures, bearing the front of every attack as he crashed upon them with unbridled violence, regardless of the numbers arrayed against him.

As of yet they had only encountered three types of the aparoids. The fodder, relatively small but undeniably numerous melee combatants that stood just above the waist of most cornerians, the aerial units, large, wasplike insectoids that fired blasts of energy from their stingers, and finally there was the walker. It appeared to possess the function of a command center, or perhaps a mobile base, as it carried both other forms of aparoids within it in seemingly limitless capacity.

Miyu was entirely certain the planet was still under CDF control as a direct result of Six's arrival... and that being this critical deterrent was killing him. The state of his armor was entirely representative of his current physical health, as she had learned when he had been forced to attend the infirmary before he set out on his last excursion. He had torn muscles, sprained ligaments, bruised bones, and it seemed he could add a cracked rib to the list.

The feline was astonished, and morbidly impressed, that he fought with such varying injuries, indeed that he was not hospitalized, but more than that she was appalled. Six sustained these injuries entirely because he cared not of protecting himself. While undeniable that his aggression was terrifying and reaped senseless casualties upon the aparoids, such a tactic was draining his life, both in a figurative and literal sense. She was certain that he would stop until either he or the enemy was utterly spent.

It made her wonder.

Was this the persona of his past? Was this the Noble Six that once waged war upon a technologically superior adversary? If it was, then she could see why his people had continued to create warriors like him, as unspeakable as the process was. It was, in no simple way, the most unbelievable, awe inspiring sight she had ever witnessed.

And Miyu hated every second of it. She was literally watching her heart-of-hearts kill himself as surely as if he had placed a gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. The only difference is that this particular conduit was indirect and slower nature. His near godlike proficiency at war saw him thrown into the thickest of combat zones to face the brunt of enemy attacks. He fought with unrestrained aggression because it prevented the enemy from forming any coherent counter, despite that such a tactic was slowly but surely snuffing his life.

The lynx shifted her gaze down to the fitfully resting spartan, a rictus of pain pulling lightly upon his face as he slept, another sign of his duress that he would succumb to slumber so easily. It was a sight she had grown morosely adapted to and a process that was not new to her. Whenever he came back from battle, he would sleep soon after, recuperating as much as he could of the strength he expended before throwing himself back into the fray.

And she could no nothing to prevent him. When she had first told him to stop, he ignored her, as he had the second and third as well. It was when she brought up the topic for the fourth time that he became infuriated. Four hours of yelling from both parties and a night spent away from each other was all that come of that. Since then, she learned that there were some things where he would adamantly deny here.

That... stung.

All she wished was to help him, but as she was starting to realize Six did not want her help, or at the very least was not willing to listen to her advice. He was, when his mind was set on a task, remarkably obstinate. And her anger did rise a little when she recalled why it was that she no longer fought at his side.

Not long after they arrived at this base he had pulled her to the side and informed her with little subtly that she would be taking a hiatus from her duties under his command. That was a conversation that had not been quite. She was certain the soldiers across the base could hear them as they argued. But, as he was prone to, the spartan won that conversation, leaving his victories undisputed.

It seemed that while he trusted her to fight the Remnant, he considered these foes above her capabilities or at the very least that her chances of being hurt were exponentially increased. Somehow she was both simultaneously flattered and insulted by this. He cared for her health, but at the same time insisted on treating her like a child.

Yet she could not find it in her to disobey him. Six could be dauntingly persuasive when he was adamant on his desire, and it did not help that he was technically her superior. Thus she had been confined, or more accurately, she was not allowed to accompany him when he departed on his own assignments. In this she found herself becoming a frequent acquaintance of Commander Ivanova, slipping into her squad's hierarchy with surprising ease. She had at first thought this might be a way to circumvent her dismissal from the spartan's side, but it appeared as if he was one step ahead of her. All of the tasks she had been handed kept her away from the places where the fighting was thickest. Despite the limitations imposed upon her, she still persisted in doing her best to contribute to the campaign efforts.

Nevertheless she would be happier if he would just worry more for his health then her own. The spartan certainly needed the attention more than she did.

With an annoyed, but no less affectionate grunt of irritation, she threaded her paws through her human's sweat soaked hair in hopes that it would ease his uneasy slumber.

"I love you... you big idiot." She muttered softly, tentatively, as if he could possibly hear her in his sleep, as her paw lingered lovingly on his cheek. The Lynx was still nervous about saying as much to him when he was awake. The feline was never all that besotted with the syrupy, mushy gushy romanticism that Krystal was so fond of reading in her books, but she vowed that when, not if, they finally got off this planet, she would pony up and confess.

Because in her eyes, from what she had seen since the crash, it was no longer safe to bank on the future.

*****

The chatter of loud voices rang noisily through the small room, unsurprising considering that more than two dozen individuals had been crowded inside for little more than half an hour as they waited for the arrival of the Lieutenant Colonel.

Fairly irritated by the droning buzz of conversation, Six lounged in the far corner, leaning against the wall and as far away from the loudest voices as he could physically place himself in an effort to attain any form of calm amidst the clamor. He ignored their prattling as he instead tried to ascertain what was reducing his MJOLNIR's combat efficiency. Ever since his last mission the servos in the suit's left arm joint would seize and terminate their function if extended out too far. This had hampered his effectiveness by eighteen percent, an unacceptable deficit.

Guiding his tool with careful precision, Six detached the plating wrapped around his armor's elbow joint to examine the servos that had been shielded by the titanium shell. The concern at hand was recognized shortly after. One of the cables looked to have been severed at some point in his last engagement, perhaps when one of those smaller grunt-like creatures had latched onto his arm in an attempt to hinder his assault. Ultimately it had failed, but not without leaving its mark it would seem.

Six grimaced in dissatisfaction.

That was a problem that he lacked the immediate facilities or materials to fix, and would persist until he returned to The Great Fox. The best he could hope for was to patch the worst of the damage and reroute function to the servos that still operated, which would at best offer him only an eight percent increase in mobility. But he would take what he could get, and attempt to be grateful for it.

In any case this exercise served a dual purpose, useful in that it distracted him from the incessant throbbing pain buried deep within his chest and other extremities. Definitely a cracked rib. He was quite impressed by this. Thus far the aparoids had been little more than a nuisance to him despite their persistence. The smaller grounded creatures could hardly do more than scuff his armor, and he was agile enough to evade the majority of incoming fire form their airborne companions. Add the factor of his shielding and the insurrection had been more of a threat, at least during the beginning.

It was the sheer quantity arrayed against him that brought issue.

Even the massed grunt suicide battalions sent during the height of the Covenant war were not as numerous. And in a way they were actually more of a threat. What these aparoids lacked in firepower they more than made up for it in sheer volume. For every hundred he was able to kill, another thousand would take their place, whittling down his defenses one battle at a time. Already in the weeks of his arrival he had nearly exceeded the last three months of his previous combat record.

He was becoming concerned that he would not be able to persevere at this current rate. The aparoids, while as individuals did not appear to possess any cognizance higher than that of beasts of war, from what he noticed there seemed to be an overarching intelligence guiding them.

This became apparent eight days ago.

That afternoon he had been ambushed during a scouting mission in the nearby city. A swarm of both types had struck from lateral and longitudinal vectors, utilizing the municipality's structures to achieve a near flawless ensnarement. Unlike any other engagement with such hostiles, they were coordinated on a level that almost mirrored a spartan team.

He fended them off with no little exertion of effort, and had since then been wondering more often as to what drove these monsters. Meanwhile, he had not encountered an attack of the like, but he was not so foolish as to believe that was a fluke.

As events were currently developing, the future appeared uncertain. 

Six despised uncertainties.

The rumble of conversation slowed, shifting the spartan's attention to the front of the room to watch as the Lieutenant Colonel entered, the imposing figure of Commander Ivanova trailing close behind. Seats were retaken and all dialogue was quieted as the various squad leaders settled themselves for the coming brief. As for the spartan, he stepped away from the wall, sealing the exposed armored plating as he made to show respect to the one in charge of this operation.

The human supersoldier watched as the canine senior officer cleared his throat, the board behind him lighting up from the projector in the ceiling. From what Six had understood, most of the high tech equipment had been destroyed during this prolonged siege, meaning they were fortunate that the outdated facilities on Katina still housed such antiquated technology. Reliance on archaic kit was something familiar to Six considering the UNSC's war machine had expended itself over the course of the war.

This was in fact not his first mission brief using a projector.

"Alright you lot, listen up. As of today we are going on the offensive." Bill's voice carried loud within the packed boundaries of the small conference room, and Six observed in silent amusement as several animalian ears were perked up in curiosity at the ostensibly unpredicted proclamation. 

This was, to the spartan, no surprise.

The current response to this war had been the dictionary characterization of incompetence, purely reactionary. Without any form of offensive operations this was a war already lost. Since before his arrival they had been simply playing into the enemy's hands, seeking only to defend their strongholds. It did not matter how many of these things you killed if you could not cut of their supplies or reinforcements, both of which cornerians either did not have or were running out of while the enemy appeared to not be suffering a similar scarcity.

"Commander Ivanova has come to me with a plan to turn the current tide." Bill continued, unaware of the spartan's musing. "I will now defer to her for the finer details." He conceded as he took a step backwards and prompted the large feline to take the stand.

The spartan could see that the female tiger was once more encased in her armor as she assumed Bill's place, what he had at first glance considered a primitive form of MJOLNIR. Now however he had learned it was more alike to what he had crafted for Miyu before their departure, heavy protective plates and ballistic weave, but bereft of any higher function. All the same, when combined with the fearsome feline's prominent combat ability, such seemingly unimportant facts mattered little.

From what he had observed serving alongside her, Commander Ivanova's strength was nearly equivalent to a normal spartan-III unenhanced by a suit of MJOLNIR, what was most likely a characteristic of her defined species rather than any possible augmentation. More than that, she was virtually just as tactically inclined and aggressive, if a little subdued in personal comparison to himself.

Curious as to what plans had been made, Six paid keen attention to the current speaker.

Ivanova raised a paw to the wall as the projector in the ceiling flicked its slide, bringing forth the image of a civilian habitation block. "As you are no doubt aware of, the aparoids knocked out all military communication stations planetwide. With this blackout we are unable to broadcast a signal past the boundaries of this world, preventing us from receiving reinforcements and ensuring we are incapable of warning the rest of the Lylat System. However..."

She pressed a button on the remote she held and the image shifted again, this time displaying a detailed double of the previous slide. The picture indicated a small plaza and a squat, square structure of solid concrete with a skeletal iron pylon bolted into the rooftop. "There are a few civilian transmitters that are salvageable. If we can repair one of these radio towers and convert it to use military frequencies, we should be able to get a signal out to the CDF, either for assistance or to at the very least warn them of our situation. Yes, Staff Sergeant Lindon."

The canine lowered his raised paw. "How far is this comms station from base? Because our APC's aren't much better than scrap right now. Any squad sent out would be stuck traveling on foot. And that's pretty much suicide." 

"The answer to your question is twofold, Staff Sergeant. The station selected for this mission is less than thirty kilometers from our current position. As for the issue with transportation, my squad has retrieved a working police vehicle from the field. While the roadmaster is not as heavily armed or armored as its military counterpart, it should be sufficient enough to get the job done."

For a brief moment the impassive expression of the feline commander darkened. "Unfortunately with the limited compartment size, the soldiers assigned to this operation will be limited to ten rifles, a driver, and the radio tech."

"I don't like those odds." A voice muttered from the back of the room.

To that Ivanova nodded grimly. "This is purely a volunteer op. So take the next few minutes to think it over and remember there is no guarantee it'll be successful and casualties are anticipated."

A hushed atmosphere blanketed the briefing room after that announcement, the silence occasionally broken by the muttering of voices. This scene was something Noble Six had come across many times in his days in the UNSC. The ratio of normal operations to suicide missions was more often in favor of the latter. Humanity was in those days a wounded creature that subsisted from luck and faith, fueled by the untold losses of its individuals. As a spartan, he was distinctly attuned to sacrifice.

In his mind, he was simply waiting for the clearance to leave, regardless if any of these soldiers stepped up to the plate. It was as he mused on this that Six heard a young voice disrupt the stillness.

"Badger squad'll get the job done, Ma'am."

Curious, the spartan looked to the speaker who now stood up from his seat. His species was as indicated by his squad's call sign, his fur a dark black with a bold white streak running down his head to disappear into the collar of his armor. However he was relatively short for a cornerian, from his distance Six wagered he would stand only about a foot above the supersoldier's waist.

Commander Ivanova turned to face the soldier, her eyes boring into the shorter figure with a forceful intensity. "You are aware of what accepting this mission means, Staff Sergeant Bran?"

"Y-Yes, Ma'am." The now identified squad leader nodded timidly as he finally noticed that he was being scrutinized by the room as a whole.

"Very well then, inform you unit and be ready to depart at 0800. For this assignment, Lieutenant-B312 will be deployed as heavy fire support." She specified the spartan with a tilt of her muzzle in his direction.

Six watched with a thin lipped smile as the badger whirled around at the news and looked to the spartan with wide eyes, the muscles in his jaw tensing visibly. Yet the human could tell at a glance it was not born of hostility. Though animalian in form, he had seen more than enough of that expression in recent days to recognize it almost instantly.

The spartan sighed, repressing his exasperation as he stepped forwards to greet the soldier with an extended hand.

The cornerian grasped his offered limb and jerkily shook it, Six doing his best not to crush the man's paw. "I uh... yes, it's a privil-uh pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"Likewise Staff Sergeant, you should check on your team, get them prepped and get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long one."

"Of course, Sir... yes Sir. Right away Sir!" The badger babbled awkwardly, before realizing he was still vigorously shaking the giant's hand, and that most of the other soldiers in the room were now chuckling. The young infantryman tore his paw away and muttered an apology as he threw up a hallway proficient salute before hurriedly leaving the room.

Six watched him leave, an uneasy turmoil lingering in the center of his stomach.

"Bran's a good kid, not the smartest but he'll get the job done." The spartan heard the voice of Ivanova at his side.

"He's going to die."

"Don't count him out yet, Spartan. Just like all the others, he's fighting to save his home. I'm certain you've seen that kind of determination yourself in the warriors of your own people."

"It was never carried far." Noble Six answered with a weary sigh. 

"Never far enough."

*****

The next day, Six found himself in Fort Abel's motor pool, trying to concentrate on sorting through his equipment as the technicians hurriedly finished their overhaul on the civilian model APC. With the time given to them there was not much the engineers could do other than weld on a few armor plates from a salvaged landmaster, and at the spartan's request, joint a hand bar to the vehicle's roof. Bran's squad was a nine man unit, and Six had no interest in stuffing himself in the small confines of the police carrier.

Even with his reservations, it was only logical for him to ride up top since the civil servant model of the CDF roadmaster did not carry a coaxial weapon. Without one their chances of crossing more than thirty kilometers unscathed was all but impossible. Providentially, the heavy assault cannon given to him by General Pepper would provide a suitable auxiliary while increasing mission success chance by a full forty percent. 

Checking his chronometer, Six noted that it was 0730, meaning he was running low on time for preparations. Returning his intent back to his weapon, the spartan extracted the dimmed power cell and inserted a fresh core he had taken from the nearly barren armory. If they were unable to contact the CDF, then they wouldn't have to worry about fighting for much longer. By Six's estimates they had maybe three to four days of ammunition left before they were down to using rifles as clubs.

Sliding the arming rack and its new power core into the cannon and reengaging the safety, he returned the heavy weapon to the workbench and examined his rifle. As sparingly as he had used his personal ammo supplies, they were still virtually exhausted. Even condensing his munitions from half spent magazines had only resulted in three and a half loads, and that was not enough. Recon had identified more than two thousand aparoid scarabs between them and their objective. Then there was the unknown force multiplier of the aparoid flyers.

Six chuckled grimly.

Nine average CDF marines, an unarmed APC, and one spartan against two thousand plus hostile contacts. Those were odds more familiar in the domain of the Human Covenant War, something he had hoped to never revisit, no matter the form taken.

What was the phrase?

Familiarity breeds contempt?

The spartan's disposition darkened further, his rifle lowering slowly from his increasingly tentative grasp. Distracted from his labors, Six opened the clasp on his TACPAD and pulled up its imaging software. He scrolled through what he had compiled since he arrived in Lylat, hundreds of images detailing military equipment, personnel, and strategic locations. And through it all he paused when coming across the only picture that stood out from the rest, as unalike as it was from the others, the only one he lingered on so often with guilty preference. 

It had no tactical importance or military application, its purpose in the instant it was taken was purely selfish, a moment of weakness for the spartan.

Though the scene was set in The Great Fox's common room it was not the focus, the peripheries of the depiction blurred in favor of concentrating on its center. And despite the fact the room was filled with the entire team, the photograph was fixed on an individual amidst the crowd, one that stood out in the translucent, clear clarity afforded to military imaging technology.

Six lingered upon Krystal's image, her smiling expression, her bright emerald eyes, everything that he had been denied since they had been separated. He had never thought he could want for something as much as he longed to be with her again. It was unalike any perception he had suffered before, and all the more unbearable for it. He could feel it most in the heart beating within his chest at every moment, a lingering sense as if he had misplaced something vital to his continued existence.

Is this what it was like to love?

Was this one of its side effects?

If so, he wasn't sure he could bear it.

"We'll make it back you know."

Turning away from the still image, Six looked to the soft smiling feline sitting beside him. This was the first time anyone had ever been able to get so close without his notice in the entirety of his spartan career, which did not speak well of love's effects on his abilities. Yet he dismissed the thought as unimportant as he lightly leaned into Miyu's shoulder. While Krystal may not be there with him, he was not alone.

"I know." He answered quietly, grateful in that moment that he agreed to let Miyu come with him all those weeks ago. He had not been kind to her in these days, an unfair treatment formed from an amalgam of stress and physical strain imposed upon him. And yet, he was not sure he would have survived without her. Every time he was drawn back to his past, she was there to forcefully pull him out of it. If not for her diligence he was certain he would have been lost to the excess of violence. There was something about war, it... called to him. He craved the cacophony of battle, the exhilaration of combat, to know that you were in all ways superior to your adversaries. He had been bred for the role of an apex predator, his proficiency and natural aptitude cultivated by years of training and merciless warfare. It was this mentality that pushed him to act recklessly.

The military facility on Onyx had tried to curb his careless behavior and self-endangerment. But when his ONI handler picked him up they had instead nurtured this conduct, perhaps seeing no long term value in a spartan-III. And it was in this way that he had come to know the Master Chief well in the years he spent fighting the war, his handler often pairing him up with the older spartan-II. They made an unusual, albeit effective unit. 117 had an analytical, calculated methodology, born of his more rigorous and intensive education. He entered a battlefield already knowing how the fight would end. Six respected him for that, and hoped that the other spartan was still fighting strong wherever he was.

However, like most IIIs, Six had not received the same intensive rearing. There was less care, less... interest, spent on the younger generation. They had never been meant to achieve the same effect as their older brethren, at least not without great sacrifice. The spartan III program had been a stopgap, a cheap, effective way to hit the Covenant where it hurt. They were little less than cannon fodder, and it showed in the way they had been taught.

When Six took to the field, it was to reap havoc.

ONI had tutored him in the ways of shock and awe, perfecting the art of offensive operations. He had been an instrument designed to create mayhem and sow fear into the hearts of the enemy, a guided missile opposed to the finer, scalpel-like precision of the Master Chief. While he had engaged hostile forced head on, the Chief slipped in during the confusion and completed the true aim of their assignment.

But that was another time, one that Noble Six did not wish back. No. He was content enough with his place in Lylat, and those he had come to call family. He looked to Miyu in this instance, the feline doing more for his sanity than any shrink ever had in his days with the office.

Six extended his gauntlet, palm upward, and the lynx wrapped her paw around his offered appendage, interweaving her furred digits into his own. "Thank you, Miyu, for standing with me."

"You haven't exactly made it easy." She retorted with gentle rebuke, a faint gleam of amusement and irritation flickering in her amber eyes.

"No... I have not, have I?" He rumbled softly to himself, his muse twisting inwards to reflect on his recent misconduct, and he was forced to examine himself without clinging to his misplaced pride. What she spoke was undeniable, nor was it new information. He was no stranger to conflict with her, but he was unfamiliar with being wrong, as he had been in nearly every argument.

What was more, he had insulted her capabilities and her person many times since they came to Katina. It was not fair to her that he would accept her first offer to help, but dismiss it at every available opportunity afterwards. He had no excuse, even if it was formed of a desire to keep her safe. He had known for a long time she was not one to be coddled.

The spartan sighed in recognition of his failures.

"I continue to be undeserving of your affection. But perhaps..." He mused with a slightly amused tone of voice, "I can attempt to rectify this."

Swiftly removing his helmet, the spartan eyed the lynx with a rather conspiratorial grin. "Would you be interested in making a wager?"

Miyu's ears flicked as she smiled wryly. "Perhaps... what are the stakes?"

"Nothing you would not enjoy. Should my kill ratio be higher than yours, in the ensuing assumption that you would care to join me for this mission, than I shall demand from you..." He paused, looking to her with a low chuckle, "a kiss."

"And should I win?" Miyu asked, feeling a warm excitement in her chest at the possibilities.

"Then I shall perform one task of any condition for you, without complaint."

The lynx forced herself to ignore the jolt of exhilaration that coursed through her body at his words. One task of any condition? She mused with an anticipatory emotion that was not entirely chaste.

"Do we have an accord?"

"Deal!" The feline declared with an animated bob of her head, sealing their pact with a forceful handshake. This was better than she had hoped for. Her first intent at coming down had been to strong arm her way into the mission, but fates willing it appeared Six had already been of similar mind. And what's more, she had a bet where she won regardless of its outcome. This was the definition of a win-win situation.

Reaching back behind where she sat, the feline pulled something heavy out from its concealed position. "It's a good thing I brought my gear then isn't it?" She wondered aloud with a sly grin.

Six laughed softly. "A coincidence I am certain. Ready up and meet me by the roadmaster. I will inform Staff Sergeant Bran of your involvement."

Standing up and leaving her with a pat on the shoulder, the spartan crossed the bustling activity of the motor pool, though he stopped some distance away from his destination to silently observe as the young badger geared up with his squad.

Nothing he saw before him was new, he had worked with countless marine squads in his time, and more often than naught those men and women did not live longer than the mission required. Such was a sad fact of life for soldiers in the UNSC, there was no statistical enquiry of the average lifespan of a marine. War against the Covenant was so unpredictable that military analysts could not accurately gauge a percentage. Regardless, any information that might have been disclosed would in all probability only have a negative impact on morale.

He knew war was waged differently here in Lylat, and from what he had gathered the survival of CDF soldiers as well as their quality of life was substantially better. But in the days he had been on Katina, fighting the aparoids, he found both his assignments and battlegrounds to eerily remind him of the conflict he left in his past.

There was a desperateness here that could only be emulated by humanity's last stand.

Their foe was numerous and had no concept or design for mercy, they destroyed, they razed, they murdered, all without any sense of morality. One had but to look to the gaunt horizons of the broken cities that now dotted Katina's landscape to notice it. Yet there was something about the aparoids that unsettled Noble Six, some inherent nature of theirs that worried him in the quite between battles. At least one could potentially understand the goals of the Covenant, after all they never stopped preaching about the sanctity of their holy duties. Yet with the aparoids there was only silence, like an army of machines, a tide of unfeeling metal and chitin that consumed all life it touched. There was no discernable emotion or individuality behind their movements, functioning more like a plague than an invading army.

Outside the motor pool's garage, past the trenches and razor wire, beyond the kilometers of desolation that stretched on into the distance, to where the bones of a dying world jutted across the broken skyline...

They were waiting.

And Six was not certain he could stop them.

His will to fight was as strong as the day he donned his MJOLNIR, but he could feel it in his ceramic plated bones, an entrenched exhaustion he had never felt before in his life, not even after the most rigorous PT drills of his youth or long hours spent on the battlefield. He was but one spartan, a III no less, not a II. He was not as... capable, as his elders, and was concerned that he alone might not be enough, not against the manner of foe they now faced.

The forces of Venom had lulled him into a sense of security he could not have afforded. A lifetime spent waged against the Covenant, an enemy so mighty and vast that any victory against them was considered monumental, had made such a foe seem pitiful in comparison.

And with their fall a new, powerful enemy has made itself known, one he knew only that they desired the destruction of all that he know cherished. In consideration to this new threat he understood less than nothing. Their objectives, their tactics, their motives or their history, all things necessary to create a real counteroffensive, or a response of any kind, all of this he needed to fight effectively, yet found himself lacking.

The spartan ignored the weary sigh that echoed within his helm as he focused outwards. Now was not the time for doubt, not when he had someone to protect. If he allowed himself to become distracted, more than his life would be endangered. Miyu would be coming with him this time, and he would be damned to the pits of hell before he let her die.

This mission would succeed if for no other reason than he would not, could not, accept the price of failure.

"You know what I think? With Bran in charge, we're all as good as dead!"

The high toned, chipper voice was jarring enough to shake Six out of his calculative thoughts and the spartan watched the small brown furred individual on the staff sergeant's team, male, lively, and jittery, a squirrel both by race and personality it appeared. However, whereas the rodent's exclamation might have been taken as an insult, judging from the looks he was getting and the smile on his face, it was a scene often played out.

"Nah, pretty sure your mouth will do us in first." This next voice, female, feline, smaller than Miyu, mundane color pattern, domestic breed, shorthair? Her tone was derisive, only supporting Six's recent theory that all felines were born sardonic.

"Relax Ora, you know he just wants attention. You're giving him exactly what he wants." Spoke the largest member of the group. Tall, muscular, an ursine perhaps? From experience Six considered bears to be somewhat of an unusual species amidst cornerians, unfortunate considering the inherent advantages that could be attained for the CDF.

"Not my fault he knows how to push my buttons, Levi." The feline retorted with a well-intentioned grimace as the other members of their squad chuckled softly.

At that point Six tuned out the rest of the conversation as it served him no purpose. The spartan instead located Bran, the badger partially concealed by the bear, Levi, as he watched his team chatter with a smile. He could see that there was history amongst this squad, perhaps born of a long interim spent together.

It was ill-fated that they had all been sent to die.

Six brushed away that cruel notion with a negligible shake of his head. It was not his place to write off allies so easily. He would do his best to see that they all made it back from the mission alive, if not in one piece.

The superhuman shelved his wandering thoughts and approached the squad, their lighthearted banter dying as he drew near. He knew why, though he did not care to ponder on that too heavily. Such recognition was a fact of life for spartans, regardless of their iteration or inferiority to one another

"Is your team ready to depart, staff Sergeant?"

"Y-Yes, Sir!" The badger answered with a somewhat confident nod. "We're briefed, geared, and ready to roll out." While Bran may not have been his first option for this assignment, the badger and his squad would have to suffice.

"Good. I am to inform you that the squad parameters have been updated. Specialist Lynx will be joining us on our mission as your tenth. Treat her as you would treat me. I will not tolerate subversive conduct."

"Of course, Lieutenant. We'd be glad to have her help." The squad leader was quick to declare with a nervous smile. While he might not have had any problems with the cat coming with them, it was hard to not be tense when the spartan spoke. He was, instinctively, a threatening individual.

Six nodded in satisfaction and without a parting word spun on his heels to return to Miyu. The time was 0750, and he intended to spend the rest of his free time with the women he loved. And as he walked away, he ignored the muted muttering of Bran's squad.

"Damn..." The squirrel mumbled softly, speaking in a low tone. "Did anyone else just piss themselves right there? That guy's scarier than our old bastard of a drill sergeant, and he was a lion."

"I would keep your voice down if I were you, Simon." The unnamed lizard amidst them cautioned with a reptilian smile. "From what I've been told the Lieutenant has dangerously good hearing."

"And you would be correct, Private."

The entire squad flinched at the sound of the departing soldier's voice.

"See... I told you."

*****

+"You alright up there? It's getting a little bumpy in here so I can only imagine what it's like riding bitch."+

The spartan, who had up until this moment been content with such a rare moment of silence, could not help but roll his eyes as he instinctively rechambered the power cell for his assault cannon for what must have been the hundredth time since they drove out of the motor pool.

"I am fine, Miyu. I was enjoying the silence..." He responded, leaving his obvious retort implicit to examine the forest of broken towers and upheaved asphalt, his grip tightening on the weapon as he scanned the ruined city for potential targets. There was not much left that resembled the thriving metropolis that had once cluttered the land. Shattered storefronts and collapsed buildings cut an ugly tapestry of ravaged civilization, and a myriad of wrecked machines spewed across the ruined landscape like the vomitus discharge of an ailing industrial titan.

Not much was left to the majesty and spender of this lylatian colony.

The spartan could not imagine what these soldiers were going through as they navigated the forlorn debris they once called home. Personally, he was hardened to such an image viewed quite often in the war with the Covenant. At least they had not been glassed, there was hope for them to rebuild. Humanity was not afforded such a luxury.

Six listened to the feline's answering, throaty chuckle over the radio with a thin smile he did not feel the least bit uncomfortable for having. While his reservations at having the lynx accompany him were still multitudinous, he did find her presence -notwithstanding that it was tonal in this current moment- to be calming if he was correct in his description. Perhaps amusing was the better adjective, given her persistence in making light banter.

Knowing that she was with him somehow made the tragedy of this world seem brighter.

+"You know..."+

Hearing her pause, her tone growing less whimsical, the spartan momentarily shoved away his attention to the outside world to focus on the sound of her voice.

+"All this quiet's given me time to think."+ She mumbled thoughtfully. +"My... my dad's here." Miyu declared softly, her voice barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with unexpressed emotion.

Six processed her announcement with disquiet, his examination of the dead city taking a darker aspect as he pondered on what he could say to ease her indisputably troubled mind.

+"I've been thinking about him for a while now. He lives over in Ildaro a few hundred kilometers southeast, or at least I think he still does. Can't really tell anymore."+ She admitted with a sigh. +"There's no telling where he could be now, or even if he's..."

Six chose to remain mute within the loaded silence that pervaded after her trailing thought, at least until he decided on what to say.

"I am certain your father is alive. After we push the aparoids off this planet I shall help you find him. And we will, I promise you that." He would do anything for her, for anyone on Starfox. Her father obviously meant a great deal to the lynx, which only could mean that the man was important to him as well. He would locate her parent, if only to make her happy. That alone was reward enough.

Six felt his mood ripple strangely as Miyu giggled, the spartan's sharp hearing discerning the indistinct sniffles surreptitiously interleaved in-between each peel of the feline's laughter. She was happy, and yet... sad.

+"Thanks for saying that, Six. If anyone in the universe could own up to that promise, it's you."+

"I do not break promises." He stated with a bland pragmatism. "I would like to believe that's one of my finer qualities."

+"Oh... I can think of a few more."+

Six scoffed good-humoredly, almost able to feel the feline salaciously waggle her eyebrows.

"You... my dear, are incorrigible." Perhaps one day Six would understand why he had fallen for such a flirt.

However Six had a theory that it would not be this day as he once more brought his focus outwards. As he did, the spartan refrained from paying too close attention to the occasional bleached white entities draped in tattered fabrics that were sprawled haphazardly across the deserted ruins.

There was nothing he could do to help them now.

This war had stretched on long enough that carrion feeders had already stripped any remains that lingered upon the battlefield, a minor, and to some degree morbid, blessing in his humble opinion. Despite the vast quantities of dead civilians he had seen in his service, it was never any easier.

Shifting his grip on the welded hand bar, the spartan peeled his gaze away from the street to scrutinize the buildings lining the paved roadway as the APC crawled through the debris, its armored treads eating up the asphalt with the steady rumble of its engines and the interment crackle of crushed glass. His intuition kept bringing his concentration to the countless broken windows that could hide any number of concealed threats.

A persistent itch beset the span of skin across the back of his neck, a lingering impression that he had come to know well over the years as the herald of ill omens. Twenty-three kilometers they had traveled so far, all without neither sight nor trace of the aparoids. Yet all the same he knew they were out here with them. There was no chance that the scout report was off, he had taken it himself. While any soldier would be pleased at the lack of confrontation, as a spartan, Six was not reassured.

The supersoldier traded his attention between his eyes and the tracking software in his armor, watching and waiting for an attack he knew was coming. There was no doubt in his mind that the aparoids would not let them reach their target without some form of resistance.

+"Still good up there big guy?"+ The familiar voice of Miyu came across his ears as the feline once more inquired on his status.

"Affirmative, no contacts within visual or scann-"

He interrupted himself as he felt a shift in air pressure around him, the spartan instinctively tucking his head tight to his chest.

Noble Six's vision blurred as a titanic force impacted his breastplate, center mass just below his ribs where his MJOLNIR was weakest, entirely bypassing or overriding his shields. Titanium armor plating crumpled inwards with the same ease as a boot crushed a tin can, and the spartan was catapulted backwards with an unsolicited wheeze of pain. He could feel his organs shift in his torso as he was sent flying, displaced by the weight of whatever immense object was sent crashing into him.

Had he not been gripping the cross-bar he would have been yanked off the APC by the sheer potency alone, instead his wrist had caught on the metal as the unexpected force had caused an instinctive reaction to tighten his grip. Rather than be knocked off the vehicle, Six growled at the sting of his arm wrenching out of its socket.

Seeking any advantage in a situation he was still trying to process, the spartan catapulted himself back onto the top of the personnel carrier using transferred momentum, ignoring the cry of displeasure his torn muscles subjected him to after their abuse as he flopped inelegantly atop the vehicle, his arm still clamped tightly around the welded bar. What he did not ignore, was the audible chittering across from him.

Whipping his attention to where he had just been riding, his pained grimace turned into a frowning rictus as he found himself unable to recognize his adversary. Yet he was able to summon up three adjectives to describe his foe.

Different, powerful... dangerous.

Unlike the centipedes and small nature of the scarab class, this new creature was quadrupedal, and nearly double his height. An angular, insectoid pate reposed at the top of its imposing stature, a pair of compound eyes glared down at him as they sat above a churning maw of sharpened mandibles. Along with four legs it possessed two lean, raptorial appendages that were in the moment tucked close to its thorax, each limb honed, barbed, and weeping an oozing black secretion from its ventilated blades.

Noble Six drew his blaster pistol and rolled onto his back, firing a trio of bolts at the creature in a bid to buy him time to recuperate and form a plan. But he was alarmed when the spine of its carapace split open like a beetle and it vaulted backwards with the buzz of insectoid wings, entirely avoiding his attack.

He watched as it landed on the brick work of a nearby building, its clawed legs plunging into the masonry with perturbed ease. And, right before his eyes, its form rippled until it vanished from sight.

The spartan uttered a dark curse as he sat himself up and looked to the collapsed thoracic plating wrapped underneath his ribs, before retuning his now more watchful gaze to the buildings encircling the APC. A tickle in his chest transformed into a wet cough that splattered his visor with thick red mucus.

In all he only really had one word to describe the last thirty seconds.

"Shit."


	34. Lone-Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devotion begets sacrifice...

Chapter 32: Lone-Wolf

 

+"Six... damn it if you can hear this you better fucking answer me!"+

 

Miyu's panicked voice was muffled to Noble Six, little more than a subdued prickle in his ears as he fumbled his way across the surface of the traveling APC, all of his training demanding that he arm himself before taking preliminary action. And he was not satisfied until he could feel the solid reassurance of the assault cannon. His weapon secured, Noble Six brought it to rest in his lap and grabbed his slackened arm. With a twist, pop, and mild grunt of pain, he crammed the wayward appendage back into its socket.

Utilizing a trick he had learned fighting sangheili special ops units, he increased the sensitivity of his motion tracker and converted his HUD to periodically shift between infrared and thermal imaging as he searched for his would be assailant. After once more hearing Miyu's frenetic request for a response he successfully masked his pain as he replied.

"Engaged with enemy contact... it's something new." He elucidated, again looking down to his buckled armor. Whatever creature that was, it had enough strength to collapse titanium battle plate with relative ease, and he could feel that something might have actually broke inside his chest, given that he had a greater difficulty than before in finding the means to breath. Meanwhile, neither infrared nor thermal scans had yet to reveal anything. Perhaps the aparoid monster had left, but that was considerably unlikely. In all reality, it was most likely regrouping for another strike.

+"Are you okay?"+The feline asked with audible concern, for the moment utterly disregarding this new information.

Doing his best to keep a wheeze from his response, he answered with an, "affirmative. It retreated before I could effectively engage." He paused with an unwelcome sense of hesitation. "Miyu, whatever this thing is... its fast. Tell Staff Sergeant Bran to cut out all the stops. We need to get to the comms relay as fast as possible." The spartan did not explain that it was because he was uncertain he could combat this creature as affixed as he currently was, atop the personnel carrier.

+"Alright, I'll let him know. And Six... be careful."+

 

Moments after she spoke the APC roared into action as it slowly climbed to its maximum speed, the buildings around them passing by with greater frequency. The landscape flew into a haze as Six tightened his hold onto the roof of the armored vehicle, bringing around the lumbering barrel of his assault cannon as he locked the servos inside his armor from shoulderplate to vambrace in the hope that it would reduce any recoil that might come as a result from firing the weapon singlehandedly.

With little else he could do by means of preparation the spartan squared his shoulders and hunkered down. Yet, in that moment an idea came to him and the supersoldier shifted. Extracting a rectangular block from within a scarcely used hardcase on his thigh, he inserted the device into a slot located on his lower back, a trickle of code flashing across his visor as his MJOLNIR's unintelligent A.I updated software and reactivated an old system.

It was fortuitous that he finished when he did, as the alternating visor modes in his HUD registered a blurred object hurtling directly towards him from up above at the same moment his motion tracker pinged. Reacting within the span of a nanosecond, the spartan reached cross his damaged thoracic plate and keyed a function in his TACPAD. Instantly his limbs locked into position and the fusion generator within his armor temporarily overloaded, reinforcing his active shields by several magnitudes.

He was not a second too late as the entity careened into his armor with enough force to rock the APC on its axels. However this time, rather than his power suit crumpling, an ear piercing screech assaulted his senses as his foe abruptly learned what it was like to be on the opposite end of its, truthfully, predictable ambush pattern.

Six knew this was an opportunity not be wasted and prematurely deactivated armor lock, with a roar of rage at finally being able to strike back at his enemy he swung the substantial weight of the energy cannon into its side to the satisfying sound of crumpling chitin. A spray of bright blue fluids splattered across his HUD and most of his upper torso as he struck a great wound upon the alien arthropod, the power behind his strike crushing the unanticipatedly weak armoring of the mantis-like creature.

Gloved fingers tightened around the thick trigger and a stream of crimson blaster bolts spewed forth from the gaping maws of the assault weapon's rotating barrels. Retracting his free arm to generate force, he jammed the actively firing blaster cannon into the joint connecting the aparoid creature's torso to the rest of its body. His arm shuddered at the powerful recoil, but with his limb locked together there was no room for the barrel to pitch or yaw. All the same he could feel the reverberation numbing his hand and upper forearm as after a few moments, the back of the aparoid exploded outwards in a shower of fluorescent blood and cybernetics, shooting a torrent of rubicund energy screaming skywards.

The fusillade of cannon fire bisected the corpse and Six watched as the two newly created halves separated and fell of the racing APC, crashing to the asphalt with a wet smack and swiftly vanished as the vehicle sped away. Releasing the trigger and finally bringing silence to his ears, the spartan watched as the trio of tubes from the assault weapon glowed bright orange, a wisp of steam trailing off the device as its barrels slowed with inactivity.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he allowed himself to feel a brief moment of relief.

"Enemy neutralized..."

 

*****

 

Miyu only waited till the rear facing access ramp of the APC had lowered enough for her to squirm her way past the opening hatch. In her haste she tripped on a section of the webbing attached to the machine's interior, what was used to keep items from jostling around the cabin going against its function as it caught on the cat's boot and sent her hurtling towards the ground outside. But she hardly made a noise or reacted beyond throwing herself back onto her feet as she raced around the side. Hooking her foot underneath the treads, she twisted herself onto the vehicle's roof with a notable demonstration of acrobatics as she reached the spartan with a plaintive cry.

"Six, are you alright? Did it get you? Where are you hurt?" Her questions fired out of her mouth almost faster than she could articulate them as she kneeled at his side and looked him over, taking no notice of the glowing blue fluid he was covered in. Having grown used to the sight of the older marks on his armor, she looked for any new damages, her amber eyed scrutiny locating the belt of collapsed plating running across his abdomen. The sight slowed her speech and the feline felt a cold jolt run down her spine.

"Does it hurt?" She asked with in a soft whisper as she traced the crumpled titanium with a hesitant paw, her breath hitching when she noticed the thin trail of blood and a strange indigo jell seeping out from the deep laceration in his armor.

By then the spartan had finally acclimated to her hurried inquiry, a low chuckle sounding from his helmet's speakers. "A little... but I'll get over it." He answered as he grabbed her gently by the waist and moved to jump off the side of the APC.

The lynx grinned, allowing him to shift her after growing quite used to his manhandling, but her smile waivered as she felt him stagger as his boots hit the ground. He was schooled well in hiding his reactions and if not for the fact he was carrying her she would have missed the shift in his posture as his left leg met the asphalt.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She wondered with a frown that seemed to have no effect on the spartan as he nodded despite his obvious discomfort.

"It's nothing I haven't felt before." He offered in an explanation that was not as relieving as he might have expected it to be. Yet she couldn't press him on it as the Bran's squad finished disembarking, the badger himself climbing out last, his eyes scanning the broken masonry scattered about the courtyard.

There wasn't much left to the city environment around them, only one or two buildings left standing in any form of reasonable condition. Fortunately, one of them happened to be the comms relay. A battered sign perforated by old detonations and marred with carbon scouring lay only a few feet away, the faded logo advertising for a news station with the name of LNN, a worn slogan faintly readable.

The galaxy's news... today.

 

The Staff Sergeant brushed a boot across the print, clearing away the dust with an indiscernible expression on the mustelid's muzzle as his gaze pulled away to scan the ruins of a dead city he had once called home. He was frozen like that until one of his squadmates, a male wild dog, tapped him on the shoulder.

Shaken from his reverie, the badger cleared his throat, and after a quite utterance of thanks to his subordinate, raised his voice to carry across the plaza. "Right then, let's get this job done and get out of here. "Ora, Simon, escort the technician inside so he can get to work." As the two selected peeled away from the unit with an unarmored female mouse to head inside, he looked to the large ursine amongst them. "Levi, take second squad and see if you can set up some kind of barricade for the doors. I'll take Quill and the rest of first and scout out the building, maybe set up some firing positions in the windows."

"On you orders, comrade." The bear nodded and gestured for a handful of those present to follow him.

An aura or reluctance pervaded the badger as he looked to the spartan, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of giving him commands, perhaps wondering if he was even supposed to.

"Specialist Lynx and I shall assist Corporal Levi with reinforcing our frontwards position." He announced much to the Staff Sergeant's relief.

"Excellent idea, Sir. Contact me on the comms if anything comes up." Bran advised with a swift salute, the spartan and Lynx watching him enter the building with the rest of his unit.

A silence was shared between them as they lingered, the last to walk away from the APC. Unspoken words hung above their heads, words from one too afraid to voice them, and from another that just did not know what to say.

"Come on..." Six spoke softly, the spartan gently spurring Miyu along with a hand at her back. "We should get to work.

With one concise nod she agreed, following the human supersoldier to the front of the building.

*****

 

Miyu wondered at why there was such an uneasy air separating them as she helped Six carry the largest sections of rubble to the makeshift firing line they were assembling at the bottom steps of the building.

She hated it, hated that she did not know what happened to turn him back to his silence so quickly after he had returned to normal, or at least what was relative to the word when he was brought to question. She had been so relieved to finally have him back at the start of the mission, the comforting reassurance of his strong personality offering her peace of mind during this stressful time.

She... she hated him, or at times she at least felt as if she did. It was not her fault that he could be so agonizingly irritating that she wanted to tear her fur out.

Why did he make it so hard to love him?

And why was the thought of stopping so unbearable?

If it where anyone else in the universe, she knew she would not have taken the shit she'd been served on near about an everyday basis. Yet when she looked at him, to those distant eyes that never seemed to be focused on the present, and the lines on his furless face etched by hardships she could not even begin to fathom, she knew she could never stop loving him. She found it impossible to blame him for simply being what he had been made to be.

He did care about her, at least when he remembered to.

The spartan was unalike anyone she had ever known in the way he showed his affection. At times he could be cold, distant to an almost criminally immoral extent. And yet at others... the thought alone filled her with a sense of content and security beyond anything she had ever experienced.

There was no shred of misconception about Six, no lies or hidden secrets from those around him. He treated people as they deserved, nothing more, nothing less. Since the first day Miyu had known him he had never lied nor sought to mislead her. He was honest, to a nearly cruel degree. And yet, she appreciated that much about him. The guys who had tried to get in her pants before she met Six were as double handed as they were determined.

Miyu didn't consider herself a goddess, at least not more than any feline had a right to, but her looks did make it difficult to make friends of the opposite gender. There always seemed to be a secondary agenda behind their motives, guided as they were by the head between their legs as opposed to the one between their shoulders.

Maybe that was another reason she liked Six so much. While the fact his sexual interest was nearly nonexistent, which was a little cutting, she at least knew that his appreciation for her companionship was founded on her character and not her feminine properties. And that meant more to her than most anything else in the world.

"You alright, Ma'am?"

The lynx looked to her left to a marine hauling a large hunk of rubble across the yard, the soldier having stopped to look to her with concern. "Yes, thanks for asking." She answered with a somewhat embarrassed smile at having been caught day dreaming.

I swear, Six's brooding is contagious. She mused with some well-deserved internal grumbling. If she didn't watch herself she might end up stricken with the same pensive inclination of the Noble Spartan.

"Alright then Ma-"

Miyu flinched as her vision was blinded momentarily by a jet of hot liquid spraying across her muzzle, the feline faltering back a few steps as she wiped at the slick wetness with a disgusted groan. Opening her mouth to vocally declare her displeasure, the lynx froze at the unmistakable metallic tang of blood coating her lips.

Her eyes flicked wide open as she stared down to her chest, the armor Six gave her drenched heavily in crimson fluid, her shoulders down to her kneepads wholly saturated in gore. A rhythmic crash of steel on concrete distracted her disoriented mind and the feline watched in mounting horror as a helmet bounced into sight, heavy with the weight of the head it had unsuccessfully tried to protect.

Miyu was deafened by a piercing scream that echoed across the plaza, the feline realizing the source of the noise was her own throat. Fear and confusion wracked her thoughts as she stumbled backwards till her boot caught on an errant chunk of stone that sent her crashing to the floor. Her mind was blank, sent into shock by a series of unexpected events. Her actions guided by nothing but abject terror she scrambled backwards, kicking her feet into the ground as she tried to crawl away from the butchered corpse scattered across the ground around her in bloodied hunks of flesh and armor.

Her gaze finally lifting upwards, she grew further confused at the distorted silhouette looming above her, the lynx's stare revealing an abnormal profile outlined with freshly spilled bodily fluids. Whatever it was, it wasn't cornerian, and that was the only prompt she needed as Miyu fumbled for the blaster clipped to her armor, squeezing the trigger in a white knuckled grip as she vented her fear at the apparition with a cry of fright.

Miyu's retaliation - her trigger discipline blemished by sheer panic - sent her shots wide. Though a few did hit as the target was so large it would be near impossible to miss at such close range. Four blaster bolts flattened against an invisible force, burning the blood around their area of impact and forcing a high pitched screech from the unseen target that hit at such a high decibel that Miyu nearly dropped her rifle to clutch at her ears to block out the painful sound.

It was her years of combat experience that ended up saving her life.

The floating drapery of blood shifted, and the feline instinctively flung herself backwards, pitching her rifle up in front of her diagonally, only to watch in shock as her weapon split clear down the middle. The attack continued and carried itself forwards, the feline howling out in agony as the invisible blade carved through her breastplate and dug a shallow furrow into her chest.

Her shout was abruptly overpowered by a deafening roar as a blaze of blue color filled her vision. The sapphire blur collided with the unseen creature with an explosive thunderclap that launched the two combatants hurtling across the square with the reverberation of metal striking metal.

Gasping and clutching her chest, Miyu felt a pair of arms slide underneath her armpits and hoist her up to her feet, a deep and burly voice whispering loudly in her ears.

"Come, we need to get out of here." 

The feline did not answer the voice, now identified as Corporal Levi by the familiar tone and height, as she instead focused on her damaged suit as the ursine dragged her across a field newly alight with the sounds of baster fire, the once empty plaza now swelling with aparoid scarabs, the bugs pouring in from all sides. A deep gash cut horizontal down the center of her combat uniform. Whatever weapon that... thing had used, completely bisected an armor piece composed of several centimeters of some of the toughest metal in existence.

Realizing just how close she had been to death was enough to shatter her stupefied haze, and she was quick to stand under her own power as she swayed unevenly in the bear's footsteps as she beat a hasty retreat to the defensive line that was partially erected. Seeing as she did not want to find herself left behind for the aparoids, the feline fed into her adrenaline, ignoring the ache in her chest in favor of crossing the courtyard in record time.

Slowed by pain and sudden exertion, by the time she reached the safety of the barricade she could only muster enough willpower to pull herself over the waist level wall of accumulated debris, the lynx dropping roughly to the ground on the opposite side with a hiss of pain as she clutched her bleeding chest wound.

"Eva, see to the Specialist's injury." The voice of the Corporal erupted behind her as the bear vaulted into cover only moments after her, the ursine quickly orienting himself to provide his own assistance to the handful of marines in repelling the aparoid swarm.

A strong grip lifted the feline off the ground and set her roughly against the makeshift cordon they had been unable to finish building, and Miyu looked to the imposing mass of Bran's female medic. Yet the canine's bulky paws were deft and tender as she pried apart the broken breastplate to swiftly wash the wound out with antiseptic and bind it with gauze.

As Miyu took in the battered state of her armor, and the fractured chestplate lying in two ruined pieces on either side of her, she felt a pang of guilt. It had been a gift from Six, one she was certain the spartan had worked long and hard on.

With the thought of the augmented human warrior in mind, she cast her gaze down either side of the debris wall, gradually noticing the distinct lack of the spartan's unforgettable profile. Dread quickly set in and the feline moved to stand, ignoring the rumbling protest from the fireteam's physician as she scanned the battlefield with worried concentration, trying and failing to discern the spartan's location amidst the chaos of battle.

The volume of blaster fire issued from the defensive line was thick enough to visibly agitate the atmosphere, the air distorted by the heat transference imposed upon the environment from such a high volume of energy dissipation, as they burned back the veritable tide of ravenous chitin like militarized foresters clearcutting a sentient and hostile field of greenery.

From first glance, there was little reason she could find that they had yet to be overrun. While not as massive as the usual hordes of the aparoid menace, there should have been more than enough present to simply overwhelm their slipshod defiance. Yet if she strained her eyes hard enough she could somewhat see a pattern in the aparoids' movements, much like the current of an ocean as a large portion of their might was diverted outwards for unknown and unseen reasons.

A gruff exclamation directed towards her uncooperative patient, the medic grabbed Miyu by the shoulders and forced her into a semi-reclined position none too gently. Capitulating to the stronger female, but unwilling to give up her search, the lynx peered over the pile of smashed stonework as she called out to the Corporal.

"Where's the Lieutenant?"

"Saving us all from dying I imagine." The bear shouted in an effort to be heard over the buzz of lasers and the constant chittering of the aparoid horde. Gesturing with his rifle towards where she recalled as the place she had been injured by the invisible monster, Miyu followed his indication with her eyes, her heart beating a horrified, monosyllabic rhythm in her chest as she finally found the spartan.

The blue blur that had slammed into her would be killer had been the human supersoldier of her affection. And she could see him now, stranded far inside the churning mass of cybernetic death. Where once the spartan had towered over any aparoid, he now found himself engaged with a creature that surpassed his once intimidating stature, the considerable size of the bony monster shifting about the battlefield with alarming velocity as it exchanged a hurricane of blows with the spartan's equally instantaneous attacks, even as the warrior valiantly fended off the aparoid swarm attempting to engulf him under the sheer weight of their bodies.

It was, for the lynx, bewildering that anything could possibly comport itself on the same podium as her spartan, and a newfound source of fear for his wellbeing as she regarded the visibly fatigued, but relentlessly tenacious human as he railed against such weighted odds.

Her mind erupted with activity as she struggled to find some manner or method of helping him before he would be brought down by numbers alone. She pushed away from the supportive presence of the wall as she sat forwards on her knees, an absent paw brushing across the dry bandaging wrapped around her torso as she looked for her blaster, a weapon, anything she could use to help him where she could.

The shuffle of boots carried her attention to the open doorway of the comms station as a trio of soldiers sprinted out from within, their haste carrying them towards the frontline, the feline watching their movements till she noticed an obscure but familiar shape. There by the steps she caught sight of something, its reflective ebon sheen glinting in the light. Rising to her feet the feline sprinted across the short distance, huffing in irritation at the ebbing ache in her chest and the lack of administrable painkillers. Dropping low once more she examined the object that had grabbed her attention, the female letting out a weak cry of victory at her luck.

The enormous mass of Six's assault cannon rested at the bottom of the stone stairway, the spartan purportedly leaving it behind in his alacrity to rescue her from the jaws of death. Such a remembrance introducing a fair modicum of promptness to her actions, Miyu grabbed it by the carrying handle and gave it substantial tug. Only to hiss in pain as the she nearly pulled the muscles in her arm and exasperated the wound on her chest. To reward her efforts, the cannon shifted half a dozen inches towards the sounds of battle, and she realized that she would never have enough time to drag it over on her own.

"Levi!" Miyu called out for the Corporal's aid, turning to watch as the hefty ursine glanced over his shoulder. Upon seeing what it was the lynx was trying to accomplish, he was quick to vacate his position on the line and rush over.

"Help me get his thing down there." 

Nodding silently, the large bear wrapped his arms around the burdensome dimensions of the heavy weapon and lifted, his muscles bulging at the palpable strain of its encumbrance. Adding her undeniably weaker efforts to his, they were able to get it to the battle line with no little amount of effort and a soreness that would linger for some time if they ever did managed to survive this.

One last grunt of exertion passed through Levi's lips as he dropped the weapon onto the wall section with a sigh, the already damaged stone cracking ominously under the weight. But that was ignored as even when he stepped away, Miyu was already saddling up to take control.

Wrapping her paw around the iron grip, she pulled the trigger.

 

*****

 

There was no hesitation once he heard the scream.

Noble Six was in motion the instant he heard Miyu's distressed cry through his auditory sensors, concrete shattering underneath his boots as he lunged forwards, propelled across the field by nothing but pure instinct. There was no tactical deliberation or forethought as he leaped into action, the spartan honing in on her voice with only the desire to protect. In that moment nothing else mattered but her safekeeping. He cared neither for the odds nor the danger, only that she needed him when he was not there for her. A booming noise echoed within the confines of his helmet as he moved, what he came to recognize as his own voice howling seconds before he met his target.

All he saw was a red blur before the impact.

The armoring on his right shoulderplate contorted awkwardly as it met the form of Miyu's attacker, his shields imploding under the incredible strain of their collision. Yet there was nothing but dark satisfaction at feeling the creature fold under the weight of his furious charge, with a piercing wail of agony. Catching it low to the ground, he wrapped his arms around whatever he could get a hold of and applied pressure as he dragged its ghostly figure to the concrete.

Glowing blue fluid splattered across his visor and a wet crunch whispered across his ears as the once firm structuring within his grasp warped as he compressed it tighter and tighter.

Then he was weightless.

It had been so fast that Six was not aware that he was airborne until he had already returned to the ground, armor scarring heavily as its unshielded bulk towed brutally across the battlefield. Moving to stand, a small organism leaped towards him and the spartan deftly caught it mid-flight, crushing its carapace with a dismissive clenching of his gauntlet before tossing away the broken form of the aparoid scarab as he firmly planted his feet. The aerial creature sailed on a precisely calculated trajectory, arriving at its destination with a sickening crack as it punched through the abdomen of another aparoid. 

Utilizing the free moment he had earned, the spartan quickly twisted on his heels to face the real threat.

He could see his target now, the swirling blue and red of mixing blood revealing most of its frame and Six recognized it as another one of those large aparoids that had assaulted him during the APC's journey. The creature wilted to a side, seeming to favor its hind pair of legs as it shuffled irregularly from side-to-side, one of its arms dragging uselessly across the ground, the unusable blade sparking against concrete whenever it moved.

Unlike his first battle, he knew the capabilities of this particular adversary, and if his postulation was correct, its weaknesses as well. With knowledge came victory and he was assured in the prospect of his success.

Studying the chitinous abomination for any sign of movement, he reached across his battered torso armor and unsheathed the curved blade there within, the gritted texture of the handle and the glint of the steel in the light reminding the spartan that he was far from unarmed, despite that he had left his equipment behind. A kukri may not be a shotgun, but it would have to serve him just as well if he was to win this engagement. The muscles that he could still feel after his most recent influx of injuries, flexed and tensed steadily with tensile anticipation for combat.

Half a dozen seconds passed before the world exploded into a conflagration of pandemonium and unmitigated violence.

Movement erupted from his left and the spartan fluidly dropped into a crouch, pivoting on his foot as he shifted his mass to bring about the titanic force of his left greave. The heavily armored appendage plunged through the thin shell of a scarab beetle, tearing a gaping and mortal fissure across its minuscule form. Even as the aparoid suicide unit was expended, Six threw himself forwards, rolling under the inbound forelimb from the great beast that sought to cleave him in half. In that moment he realized that if he were to slow down or stop for even a second, that he would be instantly overcome and brought down by the insectoid throng converging all around him in a heaving, rolling mass of chittering horrors.

As the spartan allowed himself to be carried onwards by his momentum he recalled an old lecture in biology from his academy days, the memory briefly interrupted by the unpleasant noise of an aparoid flattening under his weight after throwing itself below him in an attempt to slow his actions.

Tucking his legs close to his chest, Noble Six catapulted himself skywards. The spartan cleared the height of a two story building with the release of his coiled calve muscles, utilizing those precious seconds to plan as well as retaliate.

The drive of the common ant was much the same as what drove the aparoids. Individually the lower cast was incapable of defeating most threats to the colony, but as a united, guided force they had the ability to overpower creatures and foes many times larger and stronger than any one ant could hope to best alone. And while ants used pheromone trails to coordinate, he did not understand enough about the aparoids to assume the same. Unfortunately all he could really do was keep killing them until their numbers would subside. An all-around unsatisfactory strategy, but truly the only one left to him at present. 

Reaching into the grenade case on his bandolier the spartan extracted a CDF standard issue incendiary grenade, flicking the cap and pressing the button at the top of the device he launched it into the horde below him. With its adjusted timer a mere second passed before it detonated, a swirling fireball engulfing the area around his path of descent for three meters in every cardinal direction. When his boots hit the ground there was nothing near him by scorched earth.

His motion tracker beeped with a harsh, shrill tone and the spartan leapt backwards, a thirty-six inch blade digging a trough across the newly blackened concrete as he created a fairly credible safe zone between him and the still surviving mantis-like aparoid. The abomination must have been close to death, rear legs bent at odd angles, an arm draped unresponsively at its side, and now a full third of the surface area cross its chitinous dimensions was blackened beyond the forth degree. Six was, in all regards, alarmed at its persistence.

This was a creature that would not die easily.

If he possessed more explosives he would have used them there and then to blow it to kingdom come, but that incendiary had been all that was left of his current volatile arsenal. In other words, he would have to kill it the old fashioned way.

But he hoped that the information he had acquired on this particular beast would be enough to give him an edge, one that would be much needed. This format of aparoid was physically strong, perhaps even stronger than he was, but its hide was remarkably susceptible to blunt force trauma. Perhaps that was the drawback for its incredible speed, reduced armoring to allow it to attain absurd velocities. The poison coating its blades was of a kind he remained unaware of, but Six had no intention of discovering its potency today. As long as he remained aware of where its limbs were, and kept the creature within eyesight, it should not prove more difficult to defeat then a peculiarly devious zealot.

As if sensing his confidence, the aparoid reared its head backwards and let loose a warbling screech, the spartan watching in alarm as the swirling throng of trilling beetles rushed in from all directions with an eerie synchronization, much like the ambush from several days ago.

The largest of the alien creatures seemed content in its new place at the edge of the swarm as Noble Six suddenly found himself in the midst of a living ocean of carapaces and bladed limbs. Against such vast numbers he found it difficult to fall back on his extensive knowledge of hand-to-hand combat. No make or manner of martial arts disciplines would give him any advantages in this brutal melee. There was no time for thought or finesse in his movements. He could only react to the chittering, sensory overload fully encompassing his wits.

Parry, strike, counter, displace, a vicious sequence of instantaneous movements that barely kept him from being buried underneath the churning tide of cybernetic entities. Within moments his kukri was awash with luminescent fluid and bits of viscera as it flashed a deadly dance around him, the spartan marching through the rising mountain of shattered corpses in a constant and desperate attempt to remain at the top. His boots sunk deep into the pliable and ever shifting quagmire of bodies, each step a monumental effort as the mire of aparoid cadavers churned and clung to him with each boot he pressed forward.

In the haze of battle it was difficult for him to deduce how much noticeable real time had passed since he had been set upon by the multitudes of his adversaries. Every second dragged with a syrupy slowness, influenced and distorted by his system flushed with adrenaline and his already augmented senses. Regardless of his hyper capability to perceive, analyze, and respond to outward stimuli, he nearly found himself overcome by the sheer quantity of his enemy. Acting now as they were by what he could only assume to be the guided encouragement of a creature he was beginning to categorize as a potential command unit, the aparoids seemed to understand his enhanced biology, acting together to strike with a disturbing synchronicity and apparent awareness of the extent of his abilities.

It was all he could do to keep the swarm at bay as he fought for even a moment of respite to regroup himself and form some battle strategy. Planting his boot into the onrushing form of a particularly altruistic aparoid scarab, he pushed with a substantial amount of his strength to propel the small monster heavenwards, where it smashed into a cloud of aerial targets that had just arrived to the fight, dispersing the pack and crushing several inside with the complete force of its velocity.

With a wheezing exhalation squeezing through his battered lungs and most assuredly broken ribs he finally surmounted the summit, the spartan taking a brief instant to examine his situation, pondering on how to remain alive as he reaffirmed his grip upon the slick handle of his blade. The weapon was sodden with the strange indigo lubricants and fluid that powered these cybernetic beasts.

He was stranded within a veritable sea of adversaries, their numbers beyond what he had time to count but undeniably in the thousands. This was a battle he could not win, not as he was now, injured and bereft of the necessary equipment for a proper retaliation. The aparoids' coordination was beyond anything he had ever seen before, the swarm acting as a singular entity. It was only a matter of time until he would succumb under the pressure. His only hope would be to incapacitate their one advantage.

He cast his gaze past the insect horde, to the lumbering form of the aparoid command unit that stood so superciliously at the edge of the throng, so far from his reach. For him to even have a chance to emerge victorious, that creature would have to die. Yet, as Noble Six scrutinized the obstacles he would have to circumvent, he reconciled with himself in the understanding that this mission would not succeed without sacrifice.

The spartan risked a momentary glance backwards.

Bran's squad was still alive, the team of soldiers mired in a desperate last stand, their only means of transport isolated by the ravenous throng of aparoids vying for their blood. And Miyu, he could see her, injured, but safe for the interim behind the line as she crouched over some object by the stairs leading up to the comms relay. He had done as he promised. He had carried out his duties, kept his vows, both as a man and as a soldier.

There was just one last commitment to honor.

A soft smile drew itself upon the spartan's bloodied lips as he allowed himself one more genuine laugh.

All considering, he had done a fine job with what he had been given.

 

*****

 

The triumphant cackle Miyu began to release dried up as the blaster cannon failed to fire, the weapon silent and unresponsive no matter how hard she strangled the trigger. A high pitched, destitute scream of frustration sailed from her lungs as she smashed a fist against the insubordinate device, her assault upon the unfeeling steel as pointless as her wasted aggression.

The issue became apparent within moments; the arming rack for the power cell had been warped by some immeasurable force. The chamber no longer fed energy from the battery into the weapon. Effectively, it was useless without a few hours of technical work.

"Gods damned useless piece of shit, fucking faulty workmanship!" She yowled profanities as she wailed on the damaged machine with blind rage, vowing to find the manufacturer of this particular cannon and skin their hide.

Her anger however was not long lasting and the feline felt a wave of utter despair crash over her.

After all her effort, after all the promised she had made to herself... when Six needed her, she failed.

The lynx slumped her shoulders and fell to her knees in bitter defeat at the recognition that she was, in the end, useless. Her blaster would not be enough to help him, and going out there herself would be the same as offering herself up for slaughter. Turning her eyes away from the broken device, she was helpless to watch as Noble Six charged headlong into matchless odds with fearless ferocity.

She watched as he at last, after all the time she had known him, had finally reached the limit of his capacity. He made several meters progress, carving his way through the aparoid throng, leaving nothing but butchered remains in the wake of his passing before he was, in the end, driven to his knees. 

The scarabs were relentless. Unable to pierce his armor, they simply sought to weigh him down with their combined bulk and gnaw on the armored carapace until they created a breach point. The creatures clamped their jaws onto whatever surface space they could claim on his suit and worked in concert to drag him to the floor.

Miyu cried out for Bran's team to get them off him, to stop this madness, but they couldn't spare a rifle from the defense. The lynx grabbed her own blaster and fired at the abominations that were trying to kill the male she loved, but for every one she billeted with a blaster bolt, another effortlessly took its place.

However, amazingly, despite the mass of cybernetic monster, he centered his grip and picked himself back up, ripping them off his armor as he marched onwards. His blade never stopped moving, not for a second as he forcibly cleaved a path to the end of the swarm.

And just when it seemed like he would fall to the aparoids, just when she thought her heart would break, he reached his goal.

 

*****

 

Six grit his teeth, the spartan pistoning his plated fist through the cranium of an aparoid, the arc of his swing and the momentum carrying his gauntlet into two more of his attackers, their shells shattering under the colossal force of his single-minded belligerence. He took another step forward, repelling another dozen scarabs as he fought desperately for each meter gained. His kukri, Emile's Kukri, was broken; the blade lodged in the corpse of an aparoid half a dozen steps back as the UNSC manufactured steel finally caved under the abuse it had undertaken these past weeks. His other weapons had been out of reach when he recognized Miyu's peril, and the spartan already cursed himself for the hundredth time at his inexcusable negligence. It had been foolish to attempt repairs out in the field.

Unfortunate, but entirely inconsequential to his long term goal, he would make do with his fists if he had to.

An aparoid wasp flew low to the ground, so the spartan plucked it from the sky, crushing it in his merciless fingers. The thing burst like an overripe melon, spraying chips of chitin and several liters of blue lubricant that briefly painted the sky with an ugly array of blood and offal, all the while the hordes continued to weigh him down.

He knew by now that his MJOLNIR would most likely be irrecoverable. For more than a decade it had served him well, but now it was enduring a volume of sustained trauma that, quite frankly, it had never been designed to withstand. At this point it was little more than a broken frame wrapped over his body. The electronics in his HUD functioned only sporadically now, and the shield generator had been cleaved by an aparoid pincer, perhaps damaged beyond the point of recovery. 

By this point, Six was beginning to think the same of himself.

As if by the will of some malevolent god, the list of his grievances came around full circle. Body to armor, Noble Six's injuries were a seamless reflection of the state of his powered armor, near to the point where he was almost physically incapacitated. The spartan found it hard to breathe as he endured the aparoid onslaught. But that was unsurprising considering the presence of rib bone fragments protruding into the soft tissue of his left lung. No matter, as long as he could breathe well enough to fight he cared little. That was a grievance he could ignore, despite its long-term ramifications. He couldn't even muster enough concentration to dwell on anything but his immediate situation. His only complaint was in the difficulty he had retaining focus on the battlefield; no doubt this was brought upon by blood loss. He had any number of lacerations that he could foist the blame upon for his combat hindrance.

But none of that mattered, not his broken armor nor failing body. Only one goal held any importance in his mind, and it was soon approaching. No matter what happened to him this day, that aparoid command unit would die, and Miyu would be safe. He was certain she was trying to contact him right that moment, but his comms equipment had been damaged some minutes ago, the shattered machine parts protruding from a gaping breach in his helmet's casing. Now an annoying buzz of static intermittently plagued his ears.

The spartan beat back the next rising tide of aparoid threats with his clenched fists, his gauntlets clinging to his armor solely by the stiffness of his grip and his stamina fueled by his ravenous desire to know and secure victory, for the cost of defeat was so high that he found accepting anything less to be an impossibility. And just as he entertained the notion he was not strong enough, at the very second his mind whispered that this would be the moment where he defamed the name he had been given at the gates of Onyx... he broke free.

The human supersoldier at last stumbled out from the unremitting throng encircling him, the creatures breaking away in a sudden dispersal as he reached a physical crescendo of unadulterated ferocity, as if the aparoids were stricken numb by his capability for carnage. His fist lunged forwards, yet contacted nothing but open air, and that proved the realization needed to shake him from his vicious stupor.

The sky... he could see the sky again.

The masses of the aparoids had, up till the moment of their withdrawal, swallowed the entirety of his vision, his sight encompassed of nothing but the flailing appendages of murderous insects and the innumerable ovular silhouettes of their hides.

He was free.

For a moment the spartan was almost dumbfounded that he had reached the precipice of the enemy army, astonished that he had actually broken through their numbers after he had begun to consider that as unfeasible. It was a wonderful moment, one that brought to him the faintest murmurs of hope as he looked to the cloudless sky. He could almost imagine the warmth of the sun on his cheek and the soft caress of a passing breeze.

The next instant of clarity brought him nothing but anguish.

His muscles screamed out their agony at being abused so mercilessly. Everything hurt. A pain that burned so harshly, and so violently, that for the briefest of moments, he felt an uncontrolled tear spill from the corner of his eye as his legs threatened to fall out from under him. An unusual sensation wandered across his perception, the feeling as if he was floating. It was quite distracting. Yet the spartan gathered himself and made to move, knowing that he could not afford to collapse now.

He could save her.

Just one last promise left to keep.

He stepped forwards.

The tatters of his once mighty boot touched the cracked concrete, and he faltered.

An unusual sound made itself known to him as he stumbled, an unpleasant squelch that originated from within his leg. 

Noble Six looked down to learn the source of the noise.

The overlapping armored plates on his greave, once bright sapphire and devotedly inscribed with sigils he had intended to represent his affection for Krystal, were heavily layered in a reddish liquid. The cerinian runes that once decorated the steel with cursive and elegant script had been washed away by the continuous flow of blood and hydrostatic gel as the mix of fluids vacated his body in a temperate stream.

The gaze he sent traveling up his MJOLNIR revealed much the same, sporadic tributaries of crimson and blue rivers that emerged from various fissures in his suit to follow pre-prescribed conduits through the broken delineations of his ruined armor. For there to be enough to leak like that, his bleeding must have been catastrophic.

He felt like he was floating.

The spartan processed all of this as he fell, nearly catching himself with the gauntlet he threw out, seconds before his helmet rebounded of the concrete floor. Another fracture traced its way across his already splintered visor, the soldier trying with great difficulty to peer past the fragmented latticework of his faceplate as he picked himself back up.

Just as he sat up on his knees he threw his body back to the ground, a bladed appendage cleaving the air he had occupied only moments ago. Banishing the considerable pain he felt, Six completed his maneuver and arrived on his feet to face the lumbering form of his adversary.

At least the beast did not look any better than he did.

The aparoid command unit still bore the severe injuries inflicted upon it by the spartan, and from its heightened aggression, it seemed aware enough to recognize that he had been the one to hurt it.

Rolling back on his heels to avoid the returning swipe from its weapon arm, the supersoldier tried to draw up a plan to beat his foe. In his current condition victory was uncertain, and Six hated uncertainties. He had no shields and none of the usual benefits from his armor beyond the still partially functioning HUD. With the motion tracker and shield monitor offline, it offered nothing useful.

The world blurred around him and he lost his footing, dropping to the ground as he tripped over a mound of aparoid corpses. Such a blunder provoked a low growl of irritation from deep inside the spartan's throat.

Blood loss wasn't helping either.

Tucking his limbs close he turned on his side, narrowly avoiding impalement upon the giant creature's still functional arm. It slammed its blade so deep into the concrete that it had difficulty in trying to extract the weapon. Sensing an opportunity, Six unfurled his arms and clamped his torn gauntlets around the joint between its cybernetic carapace and the alien alloy. With that as leverage he pulled his lower body upwards and drove his boots into its thorax. They met resistance for only a second before it caved inwards.

He could feel something wet drip from his ears as the aparoid shrieked and tore its arm from the ground in an explosion of fragmented concrete that sent him flying. The flat of the blade smashed into his leg while he was in the air and the spartan let loose a howl of pain as he felt the bone of his kneecap shatter, the splinters digging into the meat of his leg as he flew backwards.

Utilizing his immense willpower the spartan hurriedly forced himself to stand as the hulking, hazy figure of the aparoid behemoth rapidly approached him, releasing another earsplitting scream from behind its agitated mandibles as it charged him blindly head on.

Six knew as he watched it barrel heedlessly towards him, focused only on killing its prey, that he only really had one shot at taking it down. He was crippled, his vison had been impaired, and with his armor essentially forced offline under incredible duress, it only weighed him down. Meeting it on an even footing would be impossible. He needed to let it come to him

Noble Six braced himself as the creature smashed into his body at full velocity.

His world darkened as he felt everything in his torso break, his stomach voiding the entirety of its contents on forced reflex as his chest cavity imploded upon itself. His vision had finally abandoned him, the rank stench of stomach acid and partially dissolved food burning his nostrils as slimy fluid polled in the recess of the protective seal around his neck. Despite the compound and devastating nature of his damages, the spartan didn't lose consciousness, even when his mind begged for a reprieve from the agony, and his body wanted to die. He wouldn't allow himself to surrender to the bliss of the void. He was a spartan, one of humanity's finest warriors, bred for the purpose of waging war and unable to accept defeat. Death was the only loss he found acceptable, and he had no intention of dying before kept his promise.

There was one guaranteed emotion that could block out pain.

Everything was washed away, his agony, his fear, even rational though in favor of the blazing, blinding rage that propelled revitalizing energy coursing through his veins. He would see this abomination die by his own hands.

The spartan slammed his boots into the ground, stunting the aparoids momentum with a unexpected squeal of surprise from the cybernetic being as he wrapped his arms around the massive beast's torso... and lifted. He could feel his deltoids, already sore and tired, rip themselves apart as he elevated the titanic aparoid from its firmly planted stance on the floor, his chest a swollen and throbbing hurricane of indescribable agony. And, at the pinnacle of the elliptical arc, he brought the full encumbrance of the creature and his rage driven strength screaming back down to the courtyard's concrete with a colossal roar of exertion.

The result was spectacular.

Its chitinous carapace, unusually brittle, shattered when it was brought careening into the concrete floor of the plaza with a stunning discharge of fluorescent azure fluid and great hunks of flesh and metal. Most of its outline had been broken apart by the impact, and the remains of the aparoid soaked in a growing mire of lubricating fluid, meat, and machine parts.

Noble Six had wrought such devastation upon its form that he could only believe it to be dead.

A great wail reverberated through the air after its death, and the spartan watched from his fatigued genuflection beside the broken husk of a corpse as the aparoid host set upon itself like a pack of starving beasts in an orgy of mindless violence. Had he been of enough cognitive presence, he might have wondered at this development, though he did possess sufficient awareness to realize it had something to do with the death of the aparoid command drone, the one event transpiring almost instantaneously after the other.

Fascinating...

 

A grunt of surprise erupted from his lips as he felt an intense pain in his torso, His kneeling form physically manipulated, his face was shoved violently into the ground as a blade punched through the battered plates of his MJOLNIR and sliced through his pulmonary artery. The appendage was loosely connected to the lifeless form of the aparoid he had killed, its body performing the last nerve led act of revenge from the cybernetic abomination.

He tried to speak, to curse the creature that, even in death, had managed to get the last blow in, but when his lips pulled apart the only thing to leave his mouth was a gushing rush of blood that gradually pooled within the closed confines of his helmet.

The spartan's extraordinary reserves of strength and focused resolve... depleted.

Noble Six collapsed. His broken and bloodied form motionless,

His immovable figure was largely ignored during the frenzied slaughter. The efficiency of the aparoids' previous, guided coordination now suited itself as their Achilles heel, the alien swarm ripping each other apart with an impressive speed that was only rivaled by their machinelike tenacity. There was no telling how far the effects spread, but to any survivors of this battle, they hoped it had killed them all.

Within minutes not a single cybernetic creature was left alive, their leaderless aggression ensuring that nothing of the same species survived.


	35. Terminal

Chapter 33: Terminal

 

[Warning, invasive software incursion detected attempting access to neural network!]

 

[Deploying anti-intrusion countermeasures...]

 

[................]

 

"There he is! Over here, we found him!"

 

[100% failure. Countermeasures ineffective; firewall breach imminent.]

 

[Activating secondary defensive protocol; locking down neural lace...]

 

[................]

 

"Oh gods the blood, it's everywhere."

 

"Six, can you hear me? It's Miyu."

 

"Don't worry I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

 

"Medic! Where the fuck is the medic?"

 

[68% efficiency; protocol partially effective.]

 

[Minimal exposure incurred upon operator.]

 

[Alert! Aggressive malware has breached neural interface.]

 

[Hostile program attempting to access cognitive and motor function.]

 

[Initiating countermeasures...]

 

[................]

 

"Someone get my trauma kit! He's going into hypovolemic shock!"

 

"Holy shit, how's this guy still alive?"

 

"Jeez, look at all that blood."

 

"Fuck, he actually killed that thing!"

 

"Is he going to be okay? Stay with me Six!"

 

"I need plasma! We're losing him! Someone get that air tube down his throat already!"

 

"Please don't go. I need you!"

 

"Multiple compound fractures, both ribs and sternum. Pass me the hemostatic bandages, he's hemorrhaging! What's his blood type?"

 

[100% effective, hostile software eliminated.]

 

[Alert! Unidentified nanites have infected operator through cardiovascular network, calculating potential health detriment, adding preexisting injuries to calculation.]

 

[................]

 

"Staff Sergeant! He's flatlining!"

 

"Use the shock pads!"

 

"Using shock pads!"

 

"Don't you dare die on me!"

 

[Projected operator condition; catastrophic.]

 

[Unidentified electric current detected; nanite density reduced.]

 

[Appraisal, unidentified nanites administering nominal utility with foreign materials. Possible long term ramifications currently unknown, present effect... productive.

 

"Alright... he's stable enough to move, but his condition is still critical. And I can't treat most of what he has with this kit. I've done all I can to help him, but he's been heavily mutilated. In my honest, professional opinion, I don't think he'll survive this."

 

"Don't you dare fucking say that!"

 

"Specialist Lynx, control yourself!"

 

"Ora, get Danna back on her feet. As for you specialist, please don't attack my medic."

 

"I'm sorry. But don't you fucking count him out. Not after he saved all our lives."

 

"We are all well aware of that Miyu, don't think we aren't. Nevertheless we are pressed for time. We don't know if there are still any aparoids in the area that weren't affected by whatever it was that just happened. And if we come across another one of those... things, while the Lieutenant is incapacitated, none of us will be making it back to inform the Lieutenant Colonel of our success. Now then, Levi, Sheridan, help Donna carry the LT to the APC. The sooner we get out of here the better."

 

[Running MJOLNIR operational status update.]

 

[Shielding System... offline]

 

[HUD Software... offline]

 

[Mechanical Operations... disabled]

 

[Neural Interface Connection... suspended]

 

[Titanium Outer Shell... 63% damaged, 85 breach points, (cataloguing individual locations in detailed logs for future repair)]

 

[Titanium Nanocomposite Bodysuit 96% damaged, 187 breach points. Estimated time for autonomous repair... unknown]

 

[Hydrostatic Gel Layer... 47% depleted]

 

[Polymerized Lithium Nibocene Layer 57% damaged]

 

[Pressure seal... 272 breach points, (cataloguing individual locations in detailed logs for future repair)]

 

[Fusion reactor... 97% output, no damage]

 

[Force-Multiplying Circuits... damage unknown]

 

[Reactive Circuits... damage unknown]

 

[Power Supply Control Unit... functional]

 

[MJOLNIR operational status... 34%]

 

"Don't worry Six, I'm here."

 

 

"I won't let you go."

 

 

*****

 

Fox had ROB input the coordinates for Katina the moment General Pepper gave him the mission parameters. Contact was, briefly, reestablished with the garrison on Katina. And it was just as he and the General had feared. No. It was worse. The Aparoids had arrived, destroyed the local fleet, and initiated planetfall. The projected damage to civilian population centers was presumed to be incalculable, and the planetary defense force was almost entirely annihilated.

Right now, The Great Fox was accompanying a massive reclamation fleet; spearheaded by the General himself, over four dozen vessels occupied by veterans, new recruits, and activated reservists. A quarter of these ships were brand new, and a further half was only recently reactivated from mothballed navy bases that were, as they departed Corneria, being repopulated and rearmed across the system.

The news had broken out that afternoon after legislation passed.

Four short months of peace and the United Lylatian Republics was once again at war.

Krystal hadn't talked to him since she heard the news, and he honestly did not blame her harboring resentment. He had all but anticipated it. While she was not the only one on the team that had been appalled to learn he had been keeping a secret from them. She had been the one to take it the hardest.

Six and Miyu were out there.

Fox didn't even know if the spartan and Lynx were still alive. But he had faith. He had to believe that they were. Six was the strongest person Fox had ever met, both in mindset and physical capability. And Miyu was ex-special forces, a commando. Together they made for a fearsome pair.

"Your coffee, Sir."

Fox turned to acknowledge the outside voice that had intruded upon his musing, the vulpine momentarily startled at the unfamiliar tone, until he remembered the General's orders the day before. As of thirty-six hours ago standard time, The Great Fox had been provisionally commissioned as a CDF fleet carrier, and since they had seen a substantial influx of personnel, weapons, and equipment. Having spoken with the team on the matter before accepting Pepper's request, he knew they still held reservations at becoming a fixture of the military, if only temporarily. Whatever their collective opinions may have been, the arrival of considerable equipment and resources was welcomed.

"Thank you, Petty Officer Haden." 

"Of course, Sir." The male lion nodded respectfully and made to politely leave the tod's presence to return to his bridgestation, where he joined the throng of naval personnel moving about the floor.

Fox watched the officer leave with an intangible emotion.

It was... strange, having a fully manned and operated ship, even stranger at being in charge of a new host of people and the responsibilities that were carried with them. And he was still getting used to the alterations. Most of them were actually very well received for the most part. Slippy, promoted to the new supervisory role of chief engineer, had a whole team of technicians and researchers to help him with his projects and general maintenance for The Great Fox.

The ship's hanger was at that moment packed full of new CDF Corsairs fresh off the assembly line, with pilots just as wet behind the ears. Falco effortlessly slipped into his new role as flight leader for the first wing with predictable enthusiasm, the boost to his ego was quite considerable as well. That was certainly an unexpected addition Fox could have done without.

In lighter news, Peppy now supervised the overhauled CIC here on the bridge. Their electronic warfare suite had been a little outdated admittedly, but that wasn't a problem anymore. Naval technicians had installed the latest software updates to both their electrical systems and ROB, another advantage he was grateful for. 

He even had an SSO now, a rather formal, by-the-books crocodilian. She took her role as the ship's security officer very seriously, and bearing in mind the destination they had plotted into navigation, and the threat that waited for them outside FTL, he considered that a much needed blessing as much as he did the presence of the naval armsmen.

Over all most everyone was content enough with their new arrangements. Even Silver was finding it interesting, the wolf pup following around the soldiers with wide eyes and a low hanging jaw, like a cub chasing after the scent of sweets. Fox sensed that a military career might be in the child's future. Keeping in mind the environment and influences he would now be growing up in, it would not be all that surprising to assume such a thing.

Yet it was not wise to have him wander around what was now a fully-fledged military ship unsupervised. To address that concern he had set Katt and Fay to task in keeping him out of trouble, seeing as they didn't have any new obligations and Krystal was for the moment... preoccupied. Hearing that he was twiddling around the arsenal of disrupter torpedoes, was something Fox could do without.

He sighed and readjusted his posture as he reclined in his bridge chair, heart heavy with the weight of his worries.

Since learning the truth of what Six and Miyu had been sent in to deal with, Krystal had been somewhat distant as of late. Miyu was perhaps her closest friend on the ship and Six... well that was a relationship that did not need to be described to be understood. Her responsibilities remained largely unchanged, though it was now more noticeably defined. The vixen was acting second for the unit Fox had created with the intention of having Noble Six administer.

With the certainty of destabilization within the Lylat system at the appearance of the aparoids, Fox had been forced to shift his plans to make Six his second in command, pushing his decision far ahead of schedule. Once they retrieved the spartan and Miyu from Katina, the human supersoldier would find himself in charge of a squad of soldiers and a small wing of fighters.

Fox hated having to impose further duties atop those the human warrior already had to supervise, but the vulpine couldn't find anyone else he trusted with the responsibility. The Aparoids wouldn't give them any leeway in this coming war. They had already incapacitated an entire world, and there was no telling where and when they would strike next, anywhere was a potential target. The more he considered this, the more he realized just how much he really needed Six here. Damnit he needed all of his friends.

The vulpine looked to his comms bracer.

Just seventeen hours left. Hold on guys. We're coming.

 

 

*****

 

"Come on Silver, get away from there. Stop pestering the poor soldiers while they relax."

The young lupine grumbled in protest, but he moved when the comparatively tall and relatively imposing figure of the pink feline approached his seat at the table where he had been watching a handful of off-duty armsmen play cards. Honestly, he was surprised that Katt let him linger in the main crew quarters for so long in the first place. Since Captain Mccloud had assigned her to act as his impromptu shepherd, she hardly let him go anywhere fun. If not for the fact that any misbehavior would upset Miss Kry... his mother, he would have tried to lose his chaperoning tail.

While he may have not been in on all the details of where they were going or the reason for their departure from Corneria, Silver knew enough that something his mom heard had made her sad. And the last thing she needed right now was to hear that he had gotten himself into trouble. The young lupine was indescribably grateful that she took the chance on raising him as her son, that she stole him away from that horrible alley he had come to call home out of necessity. Since the moment she told him that she wanted to be his mother, Silver vowed he would do anything and everything in his power to pay her back for bothering to care.

And thus, though he so dreadfully wanted to satisfy his curiosity, the wolf pup offered no resistance as he moved to join his guardian.

"Ah don't worry about it none, Miss Monroe." One of the soldiers chuckled as he cast a smile the cat's way. "We ain't bothered by the little squirt. He's kinda like the ship's mascot if ya think about it." At his words the others at his table agreed with their own varied laughter and platitudes.

"It's not you guys I'm worried about." The pink feline rejoined with a mollifying snicker. "This little fuzzball is trouble with a capital T. Besides, his ma wants to see him." With that she affixed her gaze on the pup that joined her with newborn enthusiasm.

"Really, mom wants me?" He asked, eyes shining bright with anticipation.

"Yep you heard me right. She's in the mess hall right now, waiting for your little behind so you can join her for lunch." Katt replied with a knowing smirk. It was no surprise to her that despite the briskness of his and Krystal's bond, that Silver had already slipped into the part of adoring son so effortlessly. The vixen's earnest and compassionate nature could win over even the roughest of personalities in record time. If anyone needed a frame of reference, all they had to do was look at Six.

Katt had seen what he was capable of on Fichina.

Some way, somehow, that female fox had brought that walking natural disaster to heel like a well-trained hound, or at least that's the way it seemed outside looking in. The pink feline was sure there was a lot more to their relationship than outwards appearances forespoke. She didn't know Six on a personal level yet, but she did know that he was certainly no socialite. He was a viciously straightforward individual, with a dangerously molten temperament.

He was also, quite frankly, handsome for an alien.

The pink feline considered it somewhat unfortunate that he was already spoken for and that neither Miyu nor Krystal was open to the idea of including any others into their dynamic. But, as the saying went, there were plenty of fish in the sea. This time, she decided, she would play the long game, cast a reel and wait to see what she picked up.

"Come on squirt, let's go. I don't know about you, but I could certainly go for a burger right about now." Katt declared with a giggle as she watched the pup's eyes light up at the prospect of food.

"Yes, ma'am!" Silver barked excitedly as he hurried to match the female's pace. Before he forgot however, he looked back over his shoulders and waved goodbye to the soldiers, who returned his farewell with similar gusto.

The young wolf had quite enjoyed his time with them. However, he could not help but think they were nothing like Mr. Six. They were definitely of a more open disposition than the strange giant, yet he did not feel as at ease with them as he did with the unusual male he had met some weeks ago. He couldn't place why that was so, it was just an inexplicable feeling he had.

"Don't fall behind you little rapscallion."

Silver's ears burned with embarrassment as he realized that Miss Monroe had outpaced him during his idle pondering. The pup yapped a quick apology as he shuffled quickly to make up the distance between them.

 

*****

 

It was strange to see so many unfamiliar faces walking The Great Fox's once silent corridors. Their small, tightknit community had expanded radically since the navy had transferred personnel to assist in the running of the mercenary dreadnaught. While, on one side, they had lost most of their privacy, there was something to be said of the reassurance that having all of these people provided. 

For one thing, the ship hardly felt empty anymore.

That was a recent development Krystal decided she still wasn't quite sure how to feel about, as she stepped out of the hall and into the boisterous atmosphere of the ship's commissary. The place she had thought of as their private dining area now bore more resemblance to the cafeteria of a military base, and the vixen found her new distaste for it to be ironic, considering the mess hall was for the first time, truly functioning as it was intended to.

And while she was surrounded by pleasant faces and friendly individuals, Krystal had never felt more alone with the absence of her ever faithful and devoted shadow. With Six away on a mission, the ship felt, paradoxically, emptier. Steeling herself with a dejected sigh, she took a moment to compose herself before setting off down the center lane bisecting either side of the large messdeck, her pace jerking awkwardly with every other step she took.

The injury she had sustained on Fichina had healed in its entirety, yet she suffered a persistent limp that the new ship's doctor informed her, much to the vixen's relief, would assuredly fade in the coming days. Thankfully she hardly had need of her legs to fly her Cloudrunner, and it was no great inconvenience for her that she was, until further approval, removed from the ground operations roster.

After all, there was certainly no shortage of volunteers anymore.

The tables were packed tighter than the feeding troughs on a farm, and she watched with a little amusement as other diners attempted to find seating amidst the crowd. While there was no innate sense of time onboard a starship, the military and commercial corporations designed an artificial substitute for use during space travel. Without the sun and moon to use for a frame of reference, the concepts of morning, afternoon and evening only existed because of established maritime law, space maritime law that is.

And it was that law that decided this particular moment was crowned as the monarch of lunchtime. 

It was still a unique experience for Krystal that she now had to wait in line to get her meal, and that there was actually someone here to prepare them. It would have almost been more a novelty than a source of inconvenience, if not for the grumbling of her empty stomach.

The vixen felt a blush surface as her belly growled particularly loudly during a brief pang of silence that overtook the room. The soldier in front of her glanced over his shoulder, smiled, and stepped aside, indicating that they switch places. And it was with a guilty smile that she accepted his offer. If not for how hungry she was, she would have declined for the sake of courtesy. Nevertheless the experience was not at all unfamiliar.

With the arrival of all these new people, she had been introduced to an unusual increase in deference. That would not have been all that unexpected seeing as she was part of a mercenary group that was well-known and respected. Yet she noticed she received noticeably more admiration than her other peers. Suspicion told her it was because they wanted to...become familiar with her, but she had garnered the same reaction from both genders. And Krystal was confident there were not that many women in the navy that played for the same team.

No. She found her answer just this morning, when she overheard a team of armsmen on patrol. Apparently Noble Six was a topic of intense discussion within the ranks of the CDF. It was strange for one person to be talked about so heatedly, but given who exactly it was. Krystal was not actually all that surprised. And with the sheer plentitude of their gossip they were bound to produce rumors that were fairly close to the truth.

It seems, to both her amusement and consternation, that her love life was now the repartee of the cornerian military. Somehow someone in the defense force had learned just what affiliation she shared with Six. Insert whatever outlandish, yet entirely nonfictional stories that existed about the spartan, amalgamate those with recordings that existed to visualize his voluminous heroics that she had played part to, and what she earned was a positon of prestige from many within the army.

This was unexpected, yet not entirely unwelcomed. She did enjoy being treated nicely, and the perk of not waiting in line for food was small, but enjoyable.

Still, all of the accolades and respect meant nothing to the vixen if she didn't have Six here with her to share it. He was the one who truly deserved the praise she was reaping. It was his efforts and his sacrifices that allowed Lylat to put an early end to their war, and through that time she shared with him that she realized she had fallen in love with an alien.

But it was fateful tragedy that sought to undo all his work.

The Aparoids, whatever these vile abominations were. They desired to ruin everything Six had strived to save and all that she loved. For that she would do all that lay within her power to stop them. She had resolve, but lacked the strength.

Six had been... was, her strength.

Without him she felt weak, helpless to enact the change she desired.

Krystal needed Six not just for the haven of assurance he provided, but because she loved him and could not bear the agony of their separation, no matter how necessary he had deemed it. Ever since he left her alone she felt as if there was a part of her soul that had been taken away from her. She longed for the peculiar intricacy of their many conversations, the echo of his heart gently beating beside her at night, what was the only true brief reprieve from his troubled memories she felt she could truly offer him. She yearned to once more fall under the unique hue of his eyes, to feel that breathless flutter of emotion whenever she matched his swirling irises. As a fox her sense of smell was just as influential as her sight, and she wished to see him just as much as she wished to inhale the scent of his that had become so wonderful and familiar.

"Please Six... be okay." The vixen whispered softly to herself as she stirred her soup, the table she occupied conspicuously absent of any other crewmembers. Her only reassurance was in the form of Miyu. She asked the lynx to go with Six so that he wouldn't be entirely alone out there, that he would have someone familiar to keep him company and watch his back. And perhaps most importantly, keep him falling into his dreadful suicidal tendencies, to remind him that there were people out there that cared if he lived or died. Of course the feline didn't need any convincing on her part to accompany him. Krystal just hoped that they were keeping each other safe. She didn't know what she would do if she lost either of them.

Miyu was one of those she considered to fall within the seemingly rare category of having a virtuous character. There was no one else other than Six that she cared for and trusted more than the Lynx. Krystal was content in the knowledge that the feline would do anything to help Six while he was abroad risking his life for a race he had no actual or lingering obligation to defend other than that which he perceived to possess. And if there was anyone in the universe she'd want to have beside him when she couldn't be, it was Miyu.

That cat was someone very near and dear to her heart, the first real friend she made in Starfox, and the closest since. Before they met Six, and from such meeting developed transitory hostilities, the two of them had been the other's safe harbor from the tyranny of worldly concerns. When either of them had worries, which more often than not involved Falco's idiocy, or the many adversities synonymous with their mercenary lifestyle, they went to each other to unwind. When on mission, they always flew together, and performed all the better for it. In the time before Six joined their crew, whenever they were granted leave by Fox, they spent that together, watching movies, talking about males, planning pranks on Falco, whatever it was that passed the time.

At one point Krystal had even dared to believe there might have been something more between them. But then Six came along, and Krystal knew in her heart that they were destined to be together.

Nevertheless, on occasion when her thoughts began to stray, she wondered. What would have happened if Six hadn't come along? It was a strange thought. She had never before, nor since, considered another female in that light. Swaying in such a way was not unusual, given the once predominantly female population that had once existed, and she knew that there were still some places in Lylat that adhered to that particular way of life, most of which could be found on the outlier worlds in the system.

Would they have been happy together?

The vixen's ears twitched at a tumult of noise coming from the front of the commissary, banishing her thoughts on what might have been. Krystal would have ignored the disruption, but her keen hearing sifted through the commotion, and the female fox smiled inadvertently as she listened to the voice of someone that had become very special to her.

"Mom!" Silver yapped like the excitable pup he had grown to become as he dashed across the mess hall towards her table, his stout legs pounding across the deck in his haste to greet her. The vixen's smile deepened as she studied her son's blissful expression and fresh apparel, her appearance emulated by fellow crewmembers as they watched the lively pup in action. Swathed in new, clean clothes, and properly washed and taken care of, the young lupine no longer matched the image of a street urchin down on his luck, not at all... not with a grin like that.

Her joy at the sight of Silver lightened the ever-present weight slung over her shoulders, and she happily pondered at how amazing it was that a child could so easily make her feel that way. He may have not been of her flesh and blood, but that hardly mattered. She still didn't know if she and Six would ever have a child of their own, the spartan seemed disinclined and that was without factoring the unforeseen complications of the genetics involved. And while that would have been a wonderful miracle, she was quite content with the gift she had already been given.

Though her homeworld was gone the spirits of her ancestors still watched over her.

"Hello sweetie, how was your day?" The vixen asked as the young wolf clambered onto the bench beside her, his body trembling with barely restrained childlike fervor.

"It was awesome!" He barked happily, his tail thumping wildly behind him as he looked to Krystal with a wide, innocent smile.

"I think the word he actually intended to use was chaotic, or was it frenzied maybe?" Katt countered with a chuckle as she slid into the bench opposite theirs, the feline's countenance seeming to lack Silver's optimism.

"Is that so?" The female fox asked with a shrewd smirk as she looked to the now downwards tilted muzzle of her child. She could, quite literally, feel the guilt emanating off of him. 

"I only wandered around... a little bit."

"A lotta bit you mean." Katt interjected blithely, shoving a furred thumb in the embarrassed pup's direction. "I had a heck of a time chasing this little whirlwind of curiosity around the ship. Go on... tell your mother where you've been today." The pink feline coaxed him with a shooing gesture of her paw. 

Krystal turned to her son as he finally met her gaze, wringing his paws as he went on to catalogue his exploits.

"Well first I went on to the bridge, but the mean crocodile lady told me to leave. She said I was obsticating the bridge's environment.

"I think the word you're looking for is obfuscating." Krystal corrected with a playful giggle.

"Right, that's what she said, obsticating." He nodded smartly. "After that I went to the engineering bay to watch the technicians work for a little while. But that was boring so I took the lift to the hanger to watch Mr. Lombardi drill with his pilots. That was pretty funny."

"I can only imagine." Katt muttered with a droll roll of her eyes. 

Krystal pointedly nudged the feline under the table with her sandal as she prompted Silver to resume speaking.

"What'd you do after that honey?"

"Well after a while Mr. Lombardi sounded kinda... annoying?" The pup proposed uncertainly.

An abrupt ~Snerk~ emerged from Katt as she choked back a laugh and struggled to keep her expression composed, which was mostly unheard and unseen by the lupine as he continued on obliviously.

"I left a little afterwards and ran into a group of armsmen who were off-duty. I followed them back to the crew deck and watched them play cards for a little while. And that's when Miss Monroe took me away and brought me here." He concluded with a succinct nod of his head.

"You've been a busy pup haven't you?" Krystal playfully admonished as she bopped him gently on the tip of his snout.

"Yep, and now I'm hungry." He answered with the perk of an ear and the steadfast conviction that only could only be mustered by a child who knew exactly what it was that he wanted. And if there was anything he had learned to like since he became her son, it was food.

"Alright then," she rose from her seat with a slight wince. "Let's see what the new mess officer has in store for you."

"Okay!"

With a shout of glee, the young lupine attempted to jump out of his seat, only to tumble gracelessly as his knee banged loudly against the bottom of the table. Nearly faceplanting into the deck as he lost his balance, he only just managed to recover with the tattered remnants of his pride. Silver winced as his mother burst into a fit of helpless giggles, the sound of her laughter echoed by the feline that had a first row ticket to the entire show, her pink paw slapping against the table to the beat of her jovial cackling.

"It really is fortunate that Fox put a tail on you." The cerulean vixen declared after her mirth subsided. "The spirits only know what trouble you would get into otherwise."

Too embarrassed to respond, the pup hid his eyes as he now reluctantly trudged behind his mother.

"Don't wait up on me guys, I'll hold the fort." Katt called out to the retreating pair, the feline already lost in a game on her wrist communicator.

With a roll of her emerald irises, Krystal looked back and down to her son, reaching out her paw expectantly. She did not have to wait long as the young wolf wrapped his fingers around her offered hand, his disposition lightening back to its usual unguided enthusiasm.

"Any thoughts on what you'd like to eat?" She inquired as she guided them over to the now less crowded mess line.

"Ooh I know, Stew!" He shouted eagerly, though his smile soon faded into a look of deep concentration. "No... wait not that. A burger? Spaghetti? A sandwich.... maybe?"

"How about a nice salad?" Krystal suggested with a doting, but entirely wry smile.

"Yeah, with meat.... A meat salad!" He exclaimed enthusiastically.

"We'll see about that, dear one." The cerulean vixen replied with a whimsical shake of her head.

Children truly were strange creatures.

As they went through the line to get Silver his... "meat salad", she ruminated on that previous thought, or more truthfully, the subject of that reflection and what she would tell Six when she finally had him back. She would freely, if guiltily, admit that she had made her decision about Silver without his consultation.

Krystal still remained in the dark about how he felt about children and the idea about having one. She had hopes he would be unopposed to the idea, or at least take her undeniably hurried decision in stride. While she had never seen or heard anything from him to suggest a loathing of the concept, neither had he professed any interest or aspiration for it. Nevertheless, the want for a child was something she had grown to desire in recent months. It was her hope that he would come to accept this.

No matter his feelings on the subject, she would do her best to find a solution with keeping Silver that worked for the both of them. He had committed so much of his life to her, that she would be remiss to do any less.

She already knew how she wanted to handle the conversation, all that was left was to have the spartan here to take part in it.

Despite what awaited them when they arrived at Katina, and the uncertainty of the future they now faced, Krystal could not and would not refrain from her sentiment of hopeful anticipation. Six had been gone from her side for too long, and she would brave any manner of danger or extraterrestrial threat if it would see them reunited sooner.

"Look Mom, he put meat on it just like I asked." Silver interjected into her thoughtful reverie as he hoisted his bowl of carnivorous salad up for her inspection.

"That's wonderful." She praised him kindly as she returned her focus to the immediate breath and scope of her horizons. "Now then, let's see about getting back to Katt." The female fox retrieved a fresh meal tray from the buffet counter with a polite nod to the mess chef.

"I'm sure she's hungry too."

The platter vibrated in her grasp and the vixen glanced down, her communicator brightly lit and flashing from an incoming call. Balancing the tray of food with one paw she used the other to accept the incoming transmission.

"Krystal here."

"Krys, it's Fox." The vulpine's voice echoed from her wrist.

While the resentment she felt for his deceit still ran deep, she could not find it in her to maintain her hostile demeanor. All the same she did not immediately respond, knowing nothing pleasant would emerge from her mouth. Instead she let him continue speaking.

"The General has a plan drawn up for when we arrive. If you'd like to be a part of it, the strategy conference will be in fifteen hours. And Krys..." the vulpine hesitated. "I'm sorry."

The lights on her communicator died, though her gaze upon it lasted some moments longer before she finally looked away. She knew that he felt remorse for his deception, and in some way deep down, she understood its necessity. But that was not the source for the whole of her temper. Given all the knowledge of what they faced, and the inherent perils imposed upon anyone who stood in its way. With this understanding and all of its implications, Fox had sent Six and Miyu on that mission.

And in this light, for her...

Forgiveness would not come that easily.

 

*****

 

"So... Six, is there a real name that comes after that number?"

 

For a moment, despite the fact he had been addressed by title, the spartan had not realized he had been spoken to. Curious, and confused, he looked up from his rather disinterested examination of his maltreated torso plates to affix his focus on the only other spartan in the room that matched the color pattern of his armor.

 

"What?" He growled softly, confused and wary at her sudden interest.

 

Kat briefly looked away from the datapad she had buried in the guts of the Visegrád Relay's main console. He could not see the hard eyes concealed within her helmet, but he could tell that they were undoubtedly centered on him, as if the discovery of Covenant on Reach was banal enough to warrant such a pointlessly intrusive topic.

 

He did not enjoy being placed under scrutiny.

 

"I asked if you had a name. Even slicing through all that black ink in your dossier I couldn't find anything pertaining to your name. You got something against names?" She inquired with a minute tilt of her helm.

 

"What business is it of yours?" He demanded in a low snarl. Even had he a name to offer, it would propose no tactical benefit to squad operations. As such, on a fundamental level, her inquiry was less than useless. 

 

Despite the caustic nature of his retort, the other spartan did not seem to take offense, instead sighing in weary resignation. "Is it your aim to make an enemy of the world? If that is your intent, you've been doing a decent job of it."

 

The human supersoldier did not allow himself to be bated with guilt. They were soldiers, not family. He did not want to be here as much as they did not want him. He had hoped for a swift resolution to this unwelcomed association, but with the arrival of the Covenant on humanity's last bastion, he had a sinking feeling this cooperation had just become a permanent fixation. 

Attempting to escape from this conversation, he visibly shifted his helmet away from the console and the spartan toiling underneath it, instead choosing to once more examine their surroundings for threats. Though he and 052 had chased off the pack of Zealots that did not mean the installation was safe.

 

The Covenant was a tenacious foe to eliminate, there would be more, whether from the interior or in a wave of reinforcements, that did not matter. The sooner they accomplished their objective and departed the better. He did not wish to die an ignoble death. And that was exactly what awaited him here if he stayed.

 

He could feel the itch of his finger as it caressed the trigger guard for his MA37. He did not often make unnecessary movements, but the longer he considered the future that awaited him, the more his expectation manifested itself in subtle ways. His muscles twisted and writhed with tedium and anticipation both, locked underneath a cage comprised of thick layers of titanium and nanocomposite power armor. Reach was under attack and soon to be sieged. This was what he had been waiting for all his life, a time and place where he could truly trade his life for the worth he believed it possessed.

 

He could sense it.

 

Like the spartans of old.

 

This was to be his Thermopylae.

 

Five other souls lingered in the room he occupied, a grim reminder that this was an end he would not be facing alone. Most hoped to believe that humanity could attain their hold on this world, but Six had long ago cast away any foolish beliefs in pointless falsehoods. His interim with the Office of Naval Intelligence had been quick to dissuade him from any beliefs other than statistical fact and cold calculated ratios.

 

Given the percentage of efficacious Covenant invasions arrayed against those successfully repulsed, factor the sheer disparity of numbers and technological power they would soon be pitted against, and the conclusion was already forgone.

 

Reach was lost, and anyone that stayed to defend it would die alongside their world.

 

This information, of course, did nothing to sway his convictions. He could almost admit to looking forward to the end. Perhaps then he might find his peace, maybe then the memories would fade away.

 

He deserved the fate that awaited him, at the least he could be content in the knowledge that it would be a death ultimately with purpose. In his final moments he could be redeemed for the sins of his past.

 

He had committed evil for the good of all mankind, but he had a feeling that any god above would not consider his works in the same perspective. The spartan reckoned the fate that awaited him would be cold and dark, and that he would be okay with that.

 

But there were those present that probably did not share his sentiments.

 

"That number is my name." The words arrived unbidden and unwarranted, his lips made an unwitting messenger for their delivery, what was unfortunately quite audible from his open transceiver, and the armored figure below him looked up from her work in mild surprise.

 

"There was a point where I had a real name... something more than a designation." This time his words were voluntary and expedient, if only to curtail any chance of her responding to any alleged prompt. If his body seemed to wish to speak, at the least it would not be interrupted. "But that was a long time ago. Doesn't matter anymore, not to me, and not to you."

 

Six pulled away from his reclined posture against the rigid console. If she had new questions, he would not answer them, and so he quickly moved to put distance between them. Radio contact could have been established quite simply, but his physical detachment was signal enough that he had finished with her, and that any other questions would not be returned with any more openness.

 

Of all the limited things he could be grateful for - the expediency with which B320 rigged her hot patch for the communications relay - was one of them. Better yet, after they hit the air they received word that Sword Base was under siege. It would seem that upon discovery, the Covenant had cast away all pretenses for subtly.

 

Now it would appear the invasion had begun in earnest.

 

It was only a few hours in the air to reach Sword base from Visegrád, hours that Noble Six spent in solemn silence as he contemplated, once more, the gravity of recent events. This day marked the darkest in all of humanity's sordid and violent history. Once Reach fell, there would be nothing left standing between the Covenant and the cradle of humanity. With their last celestial citadel in ruins, extinction would follow shortly after. The spartan could grimly envision the fall of mankind, the utter collapse of human civilization.

 

The fight would not end the instant Reach succumbed to Covenant forces. There would still be a few years of flagging defiance, but with the loss of their last fortress world the conclusion was all but determined. The inner colonies would fold like dominoes as morale and resources dwindled, supply chains would be shattered and entire worlds of man lost to the inexhaustible tide. The downwards spiral would continue until it reached its fulmination, the battle for Earth.

 

The epicenter of mankind would fall, and with it any tangible hope of victory. But Six took grim satisfaction in knowing the Covenant would not walk away from that battle with their heads held high and their spirits unbroken. Humanity would bleed them for every centimeter of earthen soil, every meter, kilometer, for every particle of air in the atmosphere.

 

Man might fall, but they would do all in their power to see the enemy break upon the fortifications of their resilience and indestructible resolve. At the least they would ensure that humanity would never be forgotten, even if they had to sear the extinction of their species into the memory of their executioners.

 

Six vowed, as the falcon thundered towards what would be the frontline for his last war, that he would be remembered. Recollection of his brief course in Latin prompted a phrase he had grown somewhat attached to as of late, as his future grew more and more certain.

 

In mortem, Vindiciae...

 

In his death, he would find vindication for his existence.

 

"Incoming Covenant AA! Brace! Brace!"

 

Six only had enough time to recognize the sprawling warzone outside the Falcon's spinning bloodtray before a plasma mortar slammed into its left rotor. Everything flashed white, and it was only his enhanced reflexes that prevented him from being ejected from the falcon's open air troop compartment as he dug his gauntlet into the hull. He could feel the effects of a thermal bloom as liquid plasma splashed against his armor's shields. And other than the nauseating sensation of uncontrolled freefall, the spartan couldn't coax a coherent thought from his mind as the VTOL transport fell from the sky in a blazing fireball.

 

The last image he recognized was the smoke grey shape of a cliff face as the falcon slammed into the stone, the screech of tortured and compressed metal ringing through his ears before everything turned black.

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Six awoke to nothing but blackness, the complete and utter absence of light. For a transitory moment he felt the onset of panic begin to tinge his concentration, but he crushed the sensation almost offhandedly. Anxiety served no place here, he needed focus and a direction. As seconds passed, his awareness sharpened and the world took on more definition around him.

It was then that Six realized he was not shrouded in darkness, he simply had yet to open his eyes. However, attempting to correct that oversight proved more difficult than he had anticipated. His eyelids were less than responsive, more analogous to two heavy weights that kept his vision smothered in the dark.

Though his mind was still fogged, and dredging up more than one complete thought at a time was, for the moment, near impossible, he was able to garner sufficient enough motivation to move an arm to physically pull his lids back.

Or at the least he tried. Despite any amount of determination, his arms refused to recognize the signals sent from his brain. Yet even from that scarce knowledge he could ascertain that he was lying prone against a solid, smooth surface. Whatever it was, some sort of alloy or steel, it remained cool to the touch, a light frigid sensation against the bare skin of his forearms. Six's brain, starved for information, grasped on that one recognition like a lifeline, satisfied that he at least was able to get a feel for his immediate surroundings. But he was alarmed to discover that he was no longer encased within his power armor.

Where was his MJOLNIR?

More than that, where was he?

With questions to deliberate on, the neurons in his brain flickered with the barest traces of activity, his consciousness functioning mostly on emergency power, running a battery of rudimentary, organic diagnostics.

As if to herald his slow return to functionality, the spartan was reunited with an old, but no less familiar acquaintance of his. Had he more control over his body, he might have grimaced.

Pain, harsh and scorching like plasma fire, surged rampant through every molecule of his being, accustomed in a form that unpleasantly reminded him of when he first woke up after the augmentations. His chest was an inflamed, excruciating amalgamation of scar tissue and broken misery. He could more feel than hear the deathly rattle of his tattered lungs at each raw intake of breath, like inhaling shattered glass. And his knee throbbed, swollen and fragmented.

This was a memory he could have done without revisiting.

Nevertheless, as he always did when confronted with an affliction possessing an unusually high upwelling of agony, he compressed the blistering, virulent fireball of unmitigated hurt, and stashed it away deep within the layers of his resolve. Though uncommon in the way that it did not entirely dissipate, he found it much easier to ignore at what he could call a tolerable level.

The process was lengthy and disagreeable in its fullness, but he soldiered through the unwelcome sensation of his body saturated in kerosene and rolled into a raging conflagration. Pain, that was something he could ignore, not being able to comprehend where he was, that, was something he could not disregard so easily.

Certainly not as his memories became more coherent; it took a great potency of will, but he was able to discern his last waking moments with some modicum of credibility. Deprived of the methods of which he waged war, he had been forced into drastic measures, the only true chance he had of defeating his Machiavellian adversary.

Even defeated it had not been done with their battle, considering it had lanced a forelimb into his pulmonary artery.

By rights, the spartan mused offhandedly, he should not have woken up. From what he understood of human biology, to which he was - quite frankly - fairly knowledgeable in regards to what was required to render it nonfunctional, that grave a wound should have been fatal considering it was just an addition to the somewhat detailed and lengthy list of preceding injuries imposed upon his admittedly durable form. No matter the marginally accelerated healing factor he possessed as a result of his augmentations, he should not have been able to survive the totality of his substantial foibles.

No. Some outside force had intervened, grateful as he was, he was even more appreciative at the understanding that if he had been rescued, than those he had accompanied were no doubt safe as well. He would have grinned at cheating death once again, had he a higher degree of control over his facial features. Instead he fashioned his satisfaction in the simple realization that someone dear to his heart had been saved.

It would appear that he would continue to uphold the promises he had made.

To Six, there was no greater gift or honor in this universe that could possibly hope to equate to that.

Now if only he could learn just where he was...

Fate, as if to, in a rare show of compassion, see to it that he was two-for-two in his most recent tally of good fortune, he was provided with both an answer and something that would lighten his mood for the foreseeable future.

Lips aside, his ears still functioned as they had been created to, and the spartan's keen sense of hearing detected the faint, but clearly audible and unforgettable thunder of boots on tile. Instinct tried to see that he dive from his reclined posture and pull the surface out from under him to create a shield to protect himself from the possibility of an encroaching aggressor, but he discovered in that moment that not even instinct could fight through what he could only believe to be heavy sedatives, mounted atop the incapacitating nature of his debilitating wounds.

The only sight one might notice of his internal instinct to fight would have been the brief instant his trigger finger spasmed against the cold steel of the table he presided on like a slab of butchered meat.

Doors blew open as if propelled by the gust of a violent wind, and sound, no longer muted by the muffling partitions, could be heard in a newfound clarity as he singled out the distinctive repetition of a familiar pair of shin high combat boots. Exceptional hearing and eidetic recall both, were two things he still held onto, even in his current condition. He could recognize the distinct gait and poise of any individual, only needing a few minutes to commit them to memory.

He listened to Miyu's footfalls as the feline slowly approached his position. Counting the seconds it took for her to reach the side of the table he was lying supine across, he was able to deliberate that he was not within the infirmary; the count of her steps too numerous.

The clatter of a chair dragging across stone, the shuffle of fabric, all indicated that the lynx had taken a seat beside him. Sound fell from his ears, all but for the faint pattern of her breathing as she took up silent sentinel beside his makeshift cot. He could neither move nor signpost that he was conscious, leaving the spartan to dwell in the irritation of his immobility.

He tried to quell the bubbling rise of frustration he felt at his paralysis, but he could not contain his anger, not now, not without anyone to help him see the light. If he could move, twitch an eye, a limb, anything but this damnable debilitation he now suffered. Damnit it all! Had he not given enough? Had he not suffered enough? Was God not content with the agony of existence he already bore at every second of every day?

Six was aware of his sins, he would never forget them.

But were his efforts not sufficient in the eyes of providence?

Had he not paid his dues?

He could not help but ask why, even though he knew there would be no solace of an answer.

After years of torment, after being convinced that he was unworthy of his humanity, he had been sent to this new world, his slate clean and his possibilities endless. He could have been anything here, and still he could not shake his sense of duty. A soldier was all he could ever see himself being. Men like him, they did not deserve happiness. He had believed that, until he met Krystal, until he learned just how much his existence meant to her... to Miyu.

And he had thought, so foolishly, that maybe, just maybe he could allow himself to be something else, something more.

He now saw where those thoughts had led him.

He had failed, he was not strong enough to face this new enemy. After all the aspirations of the Covenant to see him defeated, after every corpse strewn battlefield, every time he picked himself back up, knowing he had no reason to continue on with the hopeless desperation of his cause, they had not broken him.

One world, one field of battle...

That was all it had taken for the Aparoids to ruin him.

They had broken his form, if not his will. And he was reminded, in that moment, that there was reason for him to fight here, his friends, his family, his hopes for a future. Now there was a true price for failure.

The spartan felt disgust at his thoughts of self-loathing.

Where was his strength, his honor?

He had not sacrificed his humanity just to cower at the first signs of defeat. He had given it away to protect those that still possessed it. Now with it regained was he going to whimper and bemoan like an infant? Never. He would not abandon those he had found within him the capability to love.

He was no longer alone. There were people who depended on him, Krystal, Miyu... Fox. He had made promises to all of them, to be a better man, a better friend, a better lover. What's more he had made a promise to himself, to be more than he had been made to be.

Mankind had only wanted a soldier, but all Starfox wanted from him was family.

And that was something he wanted more.

"I'm sorry."

He paused, thinking for a moment that he had finally spoken. But the words, while hoarse enough to be his own, were too effeminate, and he could recognize the speaker.

"I'm sorry," the feline's voice was a rough whisper. "You protected me, saved my life, again. And I could not do the same. I... I'm sorry, Six."

Her paws, unusually cool and damp to the touch, set hesitantly on his motionless hand, furred fingers clutching tight to him as if he could drift away at any moment. "I don't know if you can hear me, the doctor said it wasn't very likely, not with..." Her voice cracked, and it was several moments before she could compose herself. "They said you're hurt. They said you're hurt real bad."

The room was fleetingly occupied with the sound of a heavy intake of breath.

"But you did it, Six. You saved us again." A soft, halfhearted chuckle graced his ears. "Just like you always do. The battle isn't over, but we found a way to hurt them. Those things you killed, you... saved me from, they're the key, our solution. Command had taken to calling those variety stalkers, but their classification is as a control unit. And with that knowledge we have a chance."

Her paws tightened around him.

"We can beat them Six, but we need you... I need you."

He would have answered her, in that moment he would have given anything to be able to speak, to hold and comfort her. But he remained impassive, restrained to the stifling solitude of his mind alone. It was a unique form of hell he could have done without.

"With communications back up," Miyu continued on oblivious to his agonizing. "We were able to contact the CDF. They sent a fleet to help us. And..." She brushed a thumb across the top of his hand. "Fox and everybody else are up there right now, fighting to reach us. I don't know how long it'll take, but it looks like they're winning."

"Fox, Fox'll know what to do. He always does. He'll get you out of here and back home where you belong. And Krystal..." The feline trailed off uncomfortably. "She.... she'll want to see you too." Fabric fluttered and he felt something wet drip onto his forehead, furry warmth caressing his cheek. "But you gotta... gotta do something too Six, you have to wake up."

"Ma'am..." A new voice entered his thoughts, distant over Miyu's shoulder.

The feline sniffled and inhaled deeply before he heard her shift away from him.

"Yeah..."

"Lieutenant Colonel Grey has requested your presence in the briefing room."

"Of course, tell him I'll be there in a few minutes."

Footsteps receded, leaving them both alone once more.

He felt more than heard her lean towards him, the softest touch of her lips tracing across his own. "I... I love you Six, so you better not well die on me. Oh, and consider our bet settled. You won."

Then she too walked away, the spartan along again in the silence of the outside, the impression of her lips lingering on his sensation.

And, for the shortest of moments, he felt peace.


	36. To Wish for Simplicity

Chapter 34: To Wish for Simplicity

 

Silver tried to ignore the shuddering deck and the loud voices in the corridor adjacent to his room. He really did try, just like Miss Spaniel told him. The wolf pup clenched his sheets tighter and drew them up to his chest, his ears tucked tightly to his skull to ward off the noise seeping in from the outside hallway.

But it was too hard, he couldn't do it.

The lupine shook his muzzle and made a serious face, hoping that if he appeared confident on the outside, some of that might leak back into him. "I have to be brave... for Mom." He muttered quietly to himself as his bed was jostled by something striking the hull.

"Hey, it's alright Silver."

Miss Spaniel's voice soothed him like a warm blanket, and the pup looked up from his idle stare into the dark blue covers. He was awed by how calmly she sat at his desk, thumbing through a fashion magazine, her browsing put on temporary suspension as she looked to him with a soft smile and motherly concern.

"Everything's going to be just fine. We're gonna kick these guys right in their butts and send them packing!" The snowy canine declared with a smile of such confidence, he could not help but believe her.

Silver was thankful that the captain had cared enough to pull him aside before the battle started, personally leading him back to his room before offering a hug and informing him that Miss Spaniel would be spending the duration with him. Gods forbid, if anything went wrong she would see him somewhere safe.

Mr. Mccloud really was a nice person, everyone here on the ship was, even the new people.

He didn't have much in the way of schooling, but he was smart enough to recognize irony when he saw it. Who would have thought that attempting to rob such a strange trio would so positively end up in his favor? All the same he vowed never again to lower himself to such a horrible thing. After all, what would Mom think of him then?

"Hey little guy, you doing alright?" A reassuring arm wrapped around his side and pulled him close, Miss Spaniel having shifted to sit in the bed beside him.

The young pup smiled up at her, able to offer a stiff nod of assurance.

He wasn't worried about himself, not anymore. But his mother, he paused, a pang of fear for her lingering deep within his heart. She had told him that she would fight, that she had to find Mr. Six. He didn't like that, but he didn't like the idea of Mr. Six being lost any more. They were good for each other, he didn't need to be an adult to see that.

Silver had noticed, even in their short time together, that Mr. Six rarely smiled for anyone or anything. The towering, and often times scary giant of a male didn't seem all that much like a friendly person to him. He was gruff, emphatically direct, and clearly unaccustomed with the concept of attachment... or at least he acted that way towards everyone but his mother. When the male had been around her, he always smiled. It was often small and nearly unnoticeable, but she was the only one that could make him happy simply by sharing the same room. His voice when he spoke with her was different also, softer and inflected with the faintest tinge of sincere affection.

He really did care about her.

And while the pup had only seen him a handful of times, the many stories his mother shared with him about the male, made it seem like he had known Mr. Six all his life. Silver was always struck in wondrous fascination at the vibrancy and bliss she radiated whenever she brought him up in conversation.

He clearly was not the only one to return that sentiment.

"Do you think Mr. Six is okay?" He asked, looking up to Miss Spaniel's ponderous visage. Her magazine, now unattended, laid face open across the sheets, the images of current cornerian style forgotten as she comforted the young pup.

The female dog nodded slowly, brushing a powder soft paw through his mane of wild fur. "I've known him for a long time, Silver. He isn't the kind of person to go down easy, I'll tell you that much."

She chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I'm not quite sure there's anything in the universe that can hurt him."

Silver did remember the stories his mother told him, of the miraculous deeds he who called himself spartan, accomplished. The wolf was reminded of the comic book superheroes he liked to read about when he had the chance, kinda like The Amazing Wolverine, except twice as irritable.

"As for your mother," the canine continued on with another laugh. "I've met komodo dragons with less bite. She can take of herself. In fact I'm betting on that she's blasting her way down to the planet right now to find him, with or without orders."

She pulled the adolescent lupine closer into the warmth of her embrace. "You'll be alright Silver. We'll all be alright. Starfox is a family, and we take care of each other. Don't you worry about the fight, you just worry about what surprise you'll have ready for your mother when she gets back. I think she'd love that."

"Okay Miss Spaniel." The child thought on what he could do for her when she returned. He had been thinking about giving her something long before now anyways, something to show her just how grateful he was to be here. And Mister Six of course, he had deserved something as well. He wanted them both to be happy.

He frowned.

Just what could a kid of his means offer to them?

He didn't have much in the way of personal possessions, or skills for that matter, unless of course you counted scrounging through rubbish.

Then, it hit him.

He knew exactly what to do, it was perfect!

Silver was distracted from his thought by a whisper of misplaced air as the door to his quarters slid open, the familiar orange coat of Mr. Mccloud flashing into view as the tod walked inside. The pup studied his expression with a concerned frown, worried to see such a different aura about the usually optimistic captain. His muzzle, typically draped in a roguish smile, was now distorted by an ill-concealed grimace, a profound heaviness lingering behind his once lackadaisical gaze.

It was then that the young wolf noticed that the sounds of battle had faded, and the voices around the ship had grown silent.

"Mr. Mccloud?" He cautioned to greet the tod with a careful smile.

And just like that his expression shifted back to normal, the vulpine walking over to ruffle his mane. "Hey kid, how's it going?"

"Is it over?" Miss Spaniel spoke next, eyeing her commander warily. Silver knew that if he had noticed Mr. Mccloud's lapse, she certainly had also.

Once more that unusual sadness crept back onto his visage, though it faded quickly as he regained control. "Yeah... it's over. These things, they didn't retreat, even when the battle fell from their favor. We had to destroy every last one of them."

He forced a lukewarm grim onto his muzzle. "But we did it, Katina is back in our hands... or at least what's left of it." He remarked in a softer tone, his smile fading. "Anyways, just wanted to stop down here and let you know there is some good news. Bill made it. He's waiting to meet us down on the surface inside Fort Abel, and from what I understand, so are Six and Miyu." He chuckled. "Krystal is already on her way. So I came to ask if you wanted to head down to the surface with the rest of us."

Her eyes shifted unconsciously towards Silver, and the vulpine followed her gaze.

"Sorry kid, but you have to stay onboard. Most of the battle planetside is over, but I'd rather not put you in any unnecessary danger. Officer Kaylan has offered to keep an eye on you till we get back."

"But Mister..." Silver muttered with a soft whine as he not quite met the vulpine's eyes. "She's not very nice."

Fox openly chuckled at that. "That's just because you are quite adept at causing trouble. Don't worry kid. We'll only be down there for less than twenty-four hours. You'll hardly notice that we're gone. Besides, Peppy and Slippy will be here if you need anything."

"If you say so, Sir." Silver wasn't so sure about predominantly being left alone, but he reasoned that he'd have to get used to it eventually. After all his new family was comprised of mercenaries, and he couldn't exactly follow them when they went to work.

The vulpine leaned down, giving the young wolf a quick embrace. "It'll be alright, Silver. You just hang on tight."

After giving him her own hug, Miss Spaniel soon left with the captain, leaving him unaccompanied in his room. Seconds passed before he already felt the touch of loneliness. Thankfully, this would be the perfect time to get his present ready before they got back. Perhaps Mister Hare or Slip could even help him with his idea.

Now eager and bubbling with the beginnings of a plan, Silver quickly bolted out of his room, nearly stumbling into the tall figure waiting just outside. Startled, he glanced upwards, wilting as he recognized the elongated crocodilian maw peering at him in return.

"H-Hello Miss Kaylan." He stuttered out a greeting.

Yellow reptilian eyes studied him silently, their owner seemingly devoid of any emotion. Silver winced as he watched her scaled lips draw back into an uneasy smile. "Young Silver, I see you are already up and about."

"Y-Yes, Ma'am." He nodded joltingly. "I was just about to find Mister Hare." He offered in explanation as he twiddled with the hem of his shirt uncertainly. Whereas Mister Six was scary in a soldier's sense, Miss Kaylan was terrifying in a whole different way. She reminded him of the wild animals he often found in the alleyways of his past, their feral nature disguised under a thin veneer of calm.

"Well then," she rumbled softly, her voice echoing with a low growl. "Lead the way." The female crocodile gestured towards the hall with a thick, scaled paw, tipped with claws like daggers.

His voice failing him, Silver instead opted to do as he had been directed, hurriedly leaping into the corridor, his pace set just below a full gallop, the silent and imposing form of the reptile following in his step.

 

*****

 

The rattle of buckles filled the transport shuttle's compartment as those present unlatched themselves from the harnesses lining the interior. Fox studied the unfamiliar assortment of individuals currently retrieving their equipment as the starship's ramp slowly descended. Of the eight people inside, only half of them were actually a part of his team.

One day he'd get used to having a security detail.

Grabbing his own gear, Fox's first insight of the true horror of what had befallen Katina arrived within his nostrils. The stagnant, cloying scent of blood and decay blew in on the wind from the open departure ramp, his throat hitching at the awful stench.

All the same he was the first one off the ship, and as his boots impacted against the uneven terrain, the vulpine's eyes widened in disbelief at his surroundings. It was beyond description, beyond anything he could have predicted.

Nothing was left standing.

What he had taken for loose gravel and rock, was in actuality the refined and powdered remnants of a shattered skyscraper, the once towering edifice of steel, nothing but a heap of broken rebar and chunks of strewn debris.

The city...

It was just... gone.

He watched in silent shock as scattered patrols, now free to leave the safety of their fortress, roved the wasteland, perhaps searching for survivors or supplies to salvage. He couldn't say for certain. He had seen some of the devastation from orbit, the Great Fox's sensors slaving themselves to whatever geographical satellites had been left in space.

But down here, with his own eyes, it was far worse than he could have imagined. And his sensor officer had told him that this kind of destruction was planetwide. Images of sprawling urban graveyards filled his mind, and the vulpine nearly dropped to his knees just attempting to grasp the concept.

And as awful as it was to consider, he could not help but think.

This could have been home.

 

This could have been our home.

 

This could have been worse.

 

Cornerian, the capital of civilization, was only a few days away by FTL. The Aparoids could have hit their first. Fox was sick to his stomach at the thought, and the very real possibility that it could still happen. They had overcome the Aparoid force in orbit, but that did not mean they were defeated.

Even then... the battle.

Fox had never seen anything like it, not in all his years as a mercenary. Fifty corneria navy ships had dropped out of warp at the periphery of the Katina cluster. Four hours of fierce void combat later, and twenty-nine CDF vessels had remained to drop troops and supplies.

Total Aparoid losses...

Nine... Nine of those fucking ships.

When they had arrived, they had greatly outnumbered their adversaries. Five strange, hornet-like cruisers, three bulbous destroyers in the shape of beetles, and one colossal vessel unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was massive, ten kilometers of armored chitin and cavernous launch bays, molded in the rough shape of the ancient omega symbol.

Four destroyers and a fleet carrier fell to it before it was finally brought down in a mass starfighter attack. Fox had never seen such losses before, not when facing such a numerically inferior foe.

Thousands of CDF servicemen had been killed over the course of a handful of hours.

And for what?

Fox's pained gaze dragged across the shattered, blood red horizon, to the broken cities and desolate suburbs that sprawled, empty and barren, for leagues unending. The civilian death toll had to be incalculable. Who knew how many years it would take to rebuild this world? That was not even considering the countless lives that had been ruined, that would forever be haunted by what they had witnessed here.

Families had been torn apart, entire bloodlines put to the sword of war.

"Holy... fuck."

Falco's hushed tone failed to properly articulate the depth of the avian's incredulity. He stood beside his friend, beak hanging open at the sheer insanity that lay before him. "By the gods, what the fuck happened down here?" He wondered aloud, reaching down to grab a handful of powdered city in his feathered hands.

Fox watched as the bird let it trickle out of the spaces between his fingers. "This..." He looked over, his expression, for the first time in ten years, bereft of any sarcasm or hilarity. "I've never seen anything like this."

Falco glanced over his shoulder, both him and Fox watching as Katt and Fay wandered the devastation, their expression bland and lifeless. Fay seemed worse off than the feline, understandable considering this had been her homeworld. Her family still lived her, or at least, Fox dearly hoped for his friend, that they still did.

"Captain Mccloud...:

Fox, still absorbing the wreckage of society surrounding them on every side for kilometers, was slow to drift his focus to the squad of soldiers making their way towards him. Thankful for something else to look at, the vulpine took in their mismatched, worn and battered assortment of armor, and dark expressions, realizing that they had probably been sent to lead his team back to the fort. 

"Yes..." His answer was shorter and more clipped than he would have liked, but he had yet to come to grips with what he had seen, could not flaunt his jovial persona amidst such tragic desolation. This was an occasion for solemn words.

"The Lieutenant Colonel sent us to retrieve you." The Sergeant replied, confirming Fox's earlier hypothesis. "He expresses his apologies for having your ship land so far away, but what's left of the airfield has been taken up by the relief ships from the fleet."

Fox waived off his apologies, with an almost guilty affability. "Don't worry about that. I'm just glad the supplies are here. You... you guys look like you need it." He admitted with a sigh.

The dog only offered a nod to that as he gestured for him to follow their squad.

"Katt, Fay... let's go." He called out to his two wayward companions, both females hesitantly making their way back to him. The soldiers in his detail had been quiet thus far as well, perhaps similarly overwhelmed as they lingered a polite distance away to speak amongst one another in private.

The walk, unsurprisingly, was mostly silent. There wasn't much to say, no topic any of them felt worth conversing around their barren environment. Instead there was a peculiar... soberness about them. In all their days they had never quite seen something like this, not even Venom would have stooped to such levels of barbarity. What the aparoids did here was less than civilized. Six had been right about his postulation more than a month past.

The Aparoids were monsters.

Stepping over the bleached bones of an unfortunate, Fox could not help but wonder.

Was this sight something Six had faced recurrently during humanity's war with the Covenant? If so, the vulpine could not begin to imagine the horrors locked deep within the spartan's mind. Once again he was in awe of his friend's absolute resilience to atrocity.

What kind of society, what kind of existence, could force someone to accept such brutality, such unspeakable malevolence, as simply trappings of the ordinary? The vulpine felt the unusual desire to hold onto the spartan and assuage his anguishes. The very thought of Six having to endure atrocities of this scale for years, trapped in the isolation of his existence, of a person he considered closer than a brother...

Fox was shaken.

Miyu was here with Six. He had sent members of his family to fight alone and unaided in this savage hellscape. Fox had known her for years, since before his father died, back when they had been just a bunch of reckless youths, dreaming of a grand future. And he had failed to be here with them, had languished at home while they endured this darkness.

Claws dug deep into the pads of his palms.

The sooner he found his errant comrades, the better.

He looked towards the sergeant, the grim faced marine marching through a nightmarish landscape he must have become unpleasantly close to, and felt the beginnings of a question bubble forth. "Do you know someone by the name of Six?"

The dog's pace faltered for the briefest of moments as he nodded. "Yes I've had the privilege of fighting beside the spartan. He saved the lives of myself and my unit several days ago. Bravest soldier I ever met."

At that, Fox did laugh, though it was quiet and lacking most of its energy. "Yeah... that sounds like him."

"It's true then?" The lone female amidst their group asked, her eyes wide with admiration. "He really is a part of your team. He really did all of those things I've heard about."

"Depends on what you heard." Falco interjected with a muted shrug. "Then again, it's the spartan we're talking about, so yeah... probably."

"So how is our resident ass kicker?" Katt inquired with a weak smile, the feline's tail raised high to avoid tracking the reedy appendage through the dust.

At that Fox's team noticed the brief exchange of glances shared between the squad, their interchange too rapid to read.

"I haven't heard from the lieutenant since our last operation with him." The Sergeant finally supplied an answer, though Fox's attunement to the veracity of conversationalists, detected misdirection concealed within that sentence.

All the same he chose not to press the visibly haggard group of soldiers. After all, the fort was just coming in to sight, and with it, the answers he was looking for. They made their way down an artificially molded hill of stone and iron, what looked like the remnants of a hurriedly fashioned defensive fortification utilizing the abundance of materials left in the wake of destruction, which would make sense, considering most of Fort Abel's walls had long since fallen.

As he looked onto the ravaged wasteland that was Bill's military base, Fox was reminded of their mission on Zoness, that is if everything had been multiplied by a factor of ten. The devastation was absolute, hardly anything with a wall was left standing, and not a single person within eyesight was bereft from some sort of bandaging.

Once again the vulpine's mind wandered to Six's stories, of the desperation felt by mankind and the frantic struggle for survival. Was that now the fate that awaited his own people? Unlike Six's race, they had but one spartan to help them face this struggle, one soldier crafted for a role Fox was uncertain any one person could bear alone.

But then he was reminded that there was a difference there.

Six was not alone.

As long as he bore breath, as long as Starfox was a family, Six would never have to face the uncertain future without those willing to help him bear that burden.

More than before Fox felt the desire to find his brother in arms, his pace increasing as they were led through the ravaged remnants of Fort Abel. Their path was short and direct, the infantry squad pushing directly for the largest of the buildings that still stood, the worn but proud ramparts of the command building still flying CDF colors with a tattered flag.

After leaving their security detail at the doors, they were quickly led inside to the sight of organized chaos. Individuals in pristine armor and fresh clothes were blindingly out of place amidst the threadbare souls they were administering assistance and supplies to. Fleet support had arrived, and just in time by the looks of it. Most of those inside the building had come out worst during the siege, many bedridden and laid out in the improvised infirmary that stretched from the cafeteria into the nearby hallway.

Fox was unsure if that was because the onsite medical ward was already at capacity, or that it was no longer standing. Neither would have been of much comfort to him.

What did at least bring some form of smile to his previously distraught countenance, was the sight of one of his oldest friends, dirtied and bruised, but thankfully alive.

"Bill, you bastard, I knew they couldn't kill ya." Falco, as eloquent as ever, greeted the canine with an unusual warmth, though that could be easily attested to the bird's relief that there was at least something still worth smiling about amid this horrible dreamscape they had to continuously convince themselves of its dread reality.

The dog, turning away from a fleet medical officer, looked across the activity with a wary but relieved smile. "I was wondering when you guys would show up." He answered in reply, sending off the doctor with a few parting words before making his way over to them.

As soon as he was close, he embraced Fox with a tired chuckle, looking to the rest of the team with a widening grin as he pulled away. "Late to the party as usual huh?"

That drew a grimace from Fox and dredged up a resurgence of his previous sorrow at the tragedy that had befallen Katina. Deep down the vulpine knew that this would be a war that would not be forgotten, even long after it was over. 

Perhaps seeing the varying looks of guilt amongst the crew, the canine spoke with a somewhat lighter tone. "That doesn't matter now though." He clapped a paw on Fox's shoulder. "You're here and we've managed to beat back these damn monsters. You've even brought Katt back into the fold it looks like." The dog confessed his surprise.

"Long time no see, Bill." The feline rejoined with a weak smile. "I just wish it had been under better circumstances."

"Don't we all Katt..." The bulldog sighed heavily, and for a moment, he looked just like the worn down greyhound they had met on Zoness. "I don't think we'd be having this conversation right now if not for the vanguard you sent over. I have no idea where you found this spartan, but I've never seen a soldier like him before. Often times it felt like the only reason we hadn't died was because he couldn't seem to realize that we could."

Fox felt a low, but amused laugh find its way out of him, despite the severity of the situation. "He has that effect on people."

"Where is he anyways? And Miyu for that matter, I thought I'd at least see that trouble maker floating around here somewhere" Fay spoke up, scanning the interior of the command building for the familiar and unforgettable outline of the giant supersoldier or his feline shadow."

For a brief, almost unnoticed moment, Bill's good humor and thin smile faded.

Fox did not like the expression that had replaced it.

"I'll.... take you to them. Dr. Kilroy was just correlating the report that the other member of your crew was also looking, so I made sure she was sent ahead."

"Have you seen her yet?" Fox asked, wondering where she had been while they were making their own way down.

"Not personally... but I could certainly tell you it wasn't for a lack of trying. From what my soldiers tell me, she's been running around the base looking for those two. And she is quite a hard female to deny; even if one does not know the answer she is looking for"

"She does tend to be a little... motivated." Fox admitted, internally wincing at the thought of the distressed vixen demanding answers from every passerby. She could be, when sufficiently inspired, a truly fearsome personality. Though she was, by default, a very demure and gentle individual, when deprived of that what she cared for, she became like a different person. And that particular creature was not one most could face and not balk at its tenacious ferocity.

"It's probably for the best if we move along then." Bill suggested as he gestured for them to follow down the hall the doctor had entered before their meeting. He did possess some inkling of that realization, so it was quite wise of him to get moving.

Now willing to argue at that, and also eager to reconcile with the scattered members of their crew, Fox and the others accompanied the canine down a series of short corridors that led them into a somewhat large expanse, what at first looked like a waiting room, lined as it was with chairs and an out of place steel table that appeared more at home back in the cafeteria they had passed previously. This deep inside the building, most of the masses had thinned, leaving only a handful of individuals inside this particular room.

At first Fox was not sure what to make of the place Bill had taken them. It was unusually empty for what he had seen so far, and the two guards at the opposite end were especially grim, their faces twisted as if they bore some terrible secret. It didn't seem like a place he thought he'd find Six or Miyu. At first he had thought they would return outside, no doubt to find the spartan stoically patrolling the battlefield. Instead here they were, shuffled into an obscure room far within the building's halls.

This... this was strange.

Though he had misgivings, Fox could only feel the reprieve of a cumbersome weight lifting off his shoulders when he noticed the familiar figure of a lynx standing by a table. His relieved grin grew when he noticed the azure vixen standing next to her.

He took a step forwards, ready to welcome the feline that had been up till now, lost in absentia. Meanwhile, his eyes sluggishly began to perceive the irregularities of the situation splayed before him. As his brain processed everything, his grin fell from his face, like meteorite crashing to the surface of this broken world.

Neither she nor Krystal was smiling. Instead there was a haunted bleakness lingering in the depth of their hollow gaze. And he noticed, his mind now flaring with activity, the white boundary of gauze visible from underneath the feline's war torn apparel, and the noticeable loss of her impetuous swagger.

But of everything he saw before him in that one instant of horrifying clarity, what struck him hardest, what would forever after visit his thoughts in the lateness of the night, was the quite sob of despair that whispered from Krystal's lips as the vixen reached out towards the iron slab, her paw trembling with unrestrained emotion.

"Your spartan... he saved the lives of countless people. I want you to know that, Fox."

Bill's somber voice cut into him, a dagger of ice cleaving into his chest as he stepped forwards to stand by the weeping vixen. That which rested upon the table, visible in clear and callous detail, was something he had never thought he would see all his life.

"We would have lost the planet weeks ago if you had not sent him."

You sent him...

 

The armor he had once considered invincible, a suit of plate that had shrugged off everything from razor claws to energy cannons, concentrated volley fire, and even orbital reentry... had been sundered in its entirety. If not for the shattered helmet resting at the top of the table, above what he could only assume was the ruptured husk of a breastplate, he would have been hard pressed to discern the orientation of its design amidst the layers of broken plating and copious shards of fragmented metal.

And the blood...

"On his last mission, the lieutenant intercepted multiple new aparoid types. From reports I received, they proved particularly... challenging to combat. He returned with the squad, critically wounded."

Critically wounded...

 

There was enough crimson fluid smeared on the crumpled bits of armor to wholly alter the previous color pallet. Blue no longer held dominance over the wreckage before his eyes. A single swipe of his paw across the smashed remnants of a vambrace, and the tacky fluid adhered easily to the pad of his thumb.

Gods... was there anything left?

"Considering his importance to the war effort and the unusual severity of his injuries, the lieutenant was taken to a separate location to recover from his wounds." The canine gestured towards the guarded doors. "Given the difficulty our medics had trying to remove his equipment; we had to ask the engineers to peel it open with power tools. It took several hours and a few team shifts, but we were able to extract him from the suit and further stabilize his condition."

Fox grasped onto that one word with fierceness born of desperation, hope, and overbearing guilt.

"Stabilize...?"

"Yes," Bill nodded hesitantly. "Noble Six survived his injuries; however he has yet to regain consciousness." The dog paused, appearing uncomfortable as he spoke next. "The spartan brought us hope after we'd started to believe there was none left. I don't know if you'll truly realize this, but everyone here would be dead if he had not sacrificed so much. I've never thought one soldier could change the course of history, not until I met the lieutenant. And what he has done here... what he has done for this world, I will never forget and neither will my troops. Many of the soldiers have come by to express their gratitude, in some form or another."

Fox looked to the chairs with humble realization.

"Though it might not matter much, he has both mine and my soldier's prayers. I'll... I'll leave you to your thoughts. If you wish to see him, he's just beyond those doors." Bill ducked his head and hurriedly departed the room, leaving a sagging pall of sobriety in his wake.

Words, thoughts, Fox lost both as he stood in the silence of their conceptions, the only sound being Krystal's muted cries as the vixen lingered upon the shattered remnants of the armor that had housed and protected her loved one, now as broken as the person it had been created to protect.

Fox looked to the doors, the stoic dispositions of the guards bearing newfound grimness as they looked on to the soul achingly passionate sobbing of the vixen overcome with emotion.

What would they find waiting for them behind those doors?

What terrible fate had befallen Noble Six?

And what were they going to do if he left them all behind?

 

*****

 

Awareness, both when it was present, and when it lapsed, had become a source of both hope and frustration for him, the former spiraling into the latter once he was cognizant enough to realize his enduring incapacity. He knew not how long he had been reduced to such a pathetic state of existence. His sense of time blurred and distorted as he endured the endless darkness, shifting in and out of consciousness at no will of his own.

Whether it had been days, weeks, or even hours, it had, at the least, given him a substantial interval in which to think. In this undefinable interlude, he contemplated on the peculiarities of his life, from the blackest days of the spartan program, to his unusual and yet superlative stint amidst the Starfox team, what he considered to be the pinnacle of his existence, Never before had he felt more sharply defined as a human being, then after he had been stranded here in this place, with these people who did not even share in his humanity. 

He learned more about himself, more about what it really meant to live, then all his years fighting to save his civilization from extinction.

His reward for this?

Those he called family were endangered, pitted against an adversary perhaps as powerful as the Covenant and considerably more mysterious on their intent. He desired to protect them, to protect this collection of alien races, his yearning to safeguard the weak solidified by the unparalleled importance they held in his eyes.

In the eyes of the universe nothing had really changed.

But to him this changed everything.

He would die for his family, for those he considered worth the belief humanity had placed upon his shoulders as the protector of their species. The intent to willingly offer his life had always been part of him, yet unlike his service to his species, it felt more... substantial. He had fought to save mankind, a principled goal that was not bereft of its fair share of nobility. But it was only here that he truly felt invested in his purpose. For all that humanity sought to accomplish with the spartan program, they had never imprinted upon their warriors with more than the need to be their shield.

They gave the spartans no more reason to fight, then that was what they had been created for.

And even now he did not disparage the program for its perhaps callous intent. There had been simply no need for this, and it was their belief that it would have been a waste of time and resources.

And yet... the spartan pondered.

He had never before fought with such adamant resolve and unbending ferocity, as he had when he heard Miyu's cry of distress. Nothing in his life had ever motivated him so swiftly, and so decisively in that moment of brief, terrifying clarity, that if he did not move that instant, she would have died.

That thought alone had pushed him past limits he did not know he could surpass.

It was his love for her that allowed him to fight with such staunch conviction and unfamiliar fierceness. 

It was also - he had carefully considered - that very adoration that had reduced him to his current prostration. Had he been of callous thought and taciturn action, he was certain he could have defeated his foe with minimal loss. And yet... had he acted as he would have nearly a year ago... she would have perished.

And that reflection was entirely abhorrent.

He knew not why, and it would most likely ever be a source of mystification, but he would rather face a thousand foolish deaths then let that fate befall her or anyone else he cared for. They could live without him, and he was happy to know that. But he no longer believed he could face a future of solitude, especially one without his companions.

The spartan dwelled on his idle thoughts, speculating on what his future would now be as he gazed into a whitewashed ceiling. How long would he be trapped within the caverns of his own mind? He needed to move, to fight, anything.... but....

Whitewashed ceiling...?

 

He stared at the tiles above him, realizing in that moment that he was indeed staring at something. He had been so unfocused, so drawn within his musings, that he had fleetingly forgotten reality. For a moment he was unsure of he could believe this to be true. Was his mind simply playing a trick on him? He would not be surprised. Hallucinations were often the result of life-threatening trauma. But as he allowed his eyes to wander, he slowly permitted himself to consider the possibility that he was once again fully aware, and hopefully, functional.

With his vison returned to him, the spartan hesitantly attempted to move, his efforts rewarded as he sluggishly dragged his torso upwards, his body aching and his bones cracking as he moved ligaments and muscles that had been abused and unused for what gave him the impression was a long time.

Attempting to take a deep breath, he faltered as stabbing agony flared hotly within his chest. The spartan gasped and choked on his strangled grasp for air as he clutched his abdomen with a snarl of pain, his teeth bared in a grimacing rictus of extreme discomfort.

Settling instead for short, shallow pants, he cast a wary glower at the source of his discomposure. And his examination was met with a disturbing exhibition. With the vestments of his MJOLNIR removed and his physique bereft of clothing, he could now see the truth of his injuries in stark lucidity.

He could hardly see his torso through a thick weave of layered gauze, the bandaging darkened a light tinge of red that grew opaquer the further his inspection carried to the center of his chest. In fact, he could not even really consider himself naked given that nearly seventy percent of his surface area was swathed in sheets of heavy field dressings. Given the blatant evidence provided, he could safely conclude that the aparoids had been able to compromise his armor integrity.

At a glance he could tell that most of the wounds were superficial and would fade inside a few months without even leaving a scar. His enhanced healing factor ensured that only the most severe of combat wounds would ever leave a trace upon him, which included anything that cut to bone or burned his flesh. Of what he could see from portions of his skin uncovered by bandages was mostly focused around his forearms, crawling tracks leading up to his shoulders, with a somewhat less concentration on his legs. Considering the heavy plating the lesser aparoids would have had to breach just to land a successful hit against his actual flesh, he had been able to shrug off a majority of any possible injuries. What, much to his chagrin, was a small blessing he had to force himself to be appreciative of.

The spartan redirected his scrutiny away from his body to his environment, a storage room by the looks of it. A strange place to house wounded, but as he was aware of the base's limited space and resources, he could not fault them for that. He was however, curious to note that he remained the only individual inside the room. There were no doctors, nurses, or staff of any kind, not even a security detail.

The room itself was mostly empty. His bed, what he now realized to be a workshop table long enough to accommodate his size, was pushed to the wall and roughly centered. He could see some signs of habitation, a desk cluttered with sheets of paper, its chair slightly askew. By the doors he could make out another table, this one clustered with his equipment, though he had yet to see any indication to the whereabouts of his armor.

One problem at a time, soldier. He internally bereted himself as he shifted his legs off the side of his makeshift cot. First he would grab his rifle and find some clothes to make himself half descent. The room was draftier then he would have preferred. Considering the lack of resources he was not surprised to discover they had only left him a scrap of material to preserve his modesty. The half sheet of fabric that had covered his waist was not worth using now that he was mobile, and so he did not move to grab it as he shifted into action.

Placing his feet firmly on the ground he shifted his weight forwards, and nearly collapsed.

The spartan barked out a short curse.

His left leg unexpectedly buckling underneath him, he blindly flung his arm outwards to catch himself with the table he had been laying upon. But he could not control his balance or redirect the center of his gravity. The spartan winced as he felt his back smash into the cool tile of the floor beneath him, a growl of frustration soon surfacing within his tender throat as he glanced to his mutinous appendage and rubbed the soreness in his torso. His body showing its lack of approve of his recent conduct.

Mercurial irises studied the leg that had failed to respond to orders, and the soldier tentatively brushed a hand across the thick wrap of gauze around his knee, inspecting the problem as he recalled moments of the last battle he had fought, and the injury to that location he suffered at the hands of his opponent.

He remembered the sound of the bone fracturing in his leg, a distinct snap of wet bark that he had never heard originate from his own body before.

The spartan sat in stupefied silence as he stared at his immobilized limb, struggling to breathe through battered lungs.

In that moment something kindled inside him, a smoldering echo of indignation and frustration. Unlike his previous bouts of rage this was... different... alien, like nothing he had ever felt before in the way it did not truly feel his own.

His body crackled with frenetic energy.

The spartan's hands shuddered with scarcely controlled vehemence and he felt a primal proclamation of rage bellow out of his lungs as he grabbed the corner leg of the workshop table and pitched it across the room, uncaring that he had put all his strength into his exertion. The crude hospital bed shrieked through the air as it embedded itself into the far wall, plunging through several feet of stonework.

Utilizing his inexplicable fury, the spartan forced himself to stand, ignoring the outrage his leg howled at his ignorance of its suffering. Grabbing a seat, he slammed it into the ground with a growl of frustration, the metal chair splintering as it cracked tile.

Inside, his mind was a confused whirlwind of rage and sorrow.

He knew this was unlike him. Noble Six did not give into his rage or his hate... not like this. He had not indulged that part of himself in a long time, not since Cyrus IV. He had not lost control in years, burying his stigmatized emotions under countless layers of professionalism and his more powerful sense of duty.

Somehow, despite his efforts, it had escaped from containment and now he suffered for it. The events on the UNSC colony tore from the deep recesses of his mind, as if pulled forth and scrutinized by a curious spectator. The images shuffled through his thoughts even as he fought to control himself.

It was not his fault. He had not known better, he was just following orders. No... wait, it was for the betterment of humanity, the push they needed to turn on the insurrection. Even as he tried to believe that he knew it was a lie, merely echoing the hollow words of his superior officer.

The truth was damning.

An entire city, eighteen million souls lost in a fissionable conflagration of radiation and fire that split the very surface of that world. And it had served no real purpose. Tears spilt from his eyes as he roared and raged against his circumstances. This was not who he was. Six had control, he had duty. Protect but do not falter. That had been the promise he made to himself five years ago, as he watched the mushroom cloud loom into the sky, ash raining down upon his prostrated form as he cried at the death of his humanity. The day he realized that if he did not distance himself from his people he would be unable to perform his duties. Uphold the tenants of mankind, but do not succumb to them. No matter what he had endured, they had never broken him.

Now it looked as if he would break himself.

Six tried to recall the promise he had only just made to himself upon waking, to not surrender to despair, but his mind was clouded, obscured as if by some intrusive force that sought to bury him under the weight of his past sins. He thrashed and fought, writhed and contorted, snarled and growled as he struggled to restrain his rising emotions. If he did not reacquire his control someone could get hurt. And that would be unforgivable.

He was more than this... he was better than this.

With one last snarl, he slammed his fist into the counter in front of him, his clenched grip punching clean through several centimeters of polished metal as he lot out a low and drawn out howl of sorrow, begging for the pain to return, to suffer appropriately for his crimes against humanity.

So many people...

The child....

On that day he had not been what ONI promised he would be. The Covenant had excuse for their atrocious transgressions that lied within their extraterrestrial origins. No. What happened to the people of Cyrus IV... the tragedy that befell upon that world. That had been a result of the true depth of mankind's own evil. Everything Noble Six believed himself to be was false. He was little more than a mockery of his predecessors, worth less than the ash that had been underneath his feet half a decade ago.

It had been so much easier when he cared not for his soul, when his eye was only affixed upon his sense of obligation.

He was not the good man his new family thought he was.

Remember Cyrus VI.

 

Remember the promise you made.

 

Remember your duty.

 

The spartan extracted his hand from the crumpled table, his fist a newly bloodied mess as he studied the streams of fresh blood weeping from where his skin had torn against jagged metal. Crimson liquid dribbled down his forearm, falling from his elbow to patter wetly against the floor.

And just as quickly and suddenly as it had arrived, his rage dissipated, replaced with a soul aching hollowness, as if his emotions had bled from his body like that which seeped from his hand.

He turned his back, both figuratively and literally as he sought to put what had happened behind him. He knew not where this random bout had come from, but for now he would rather forget than attempt to discover why.

Noble Six focused on his original goals, require his weapons and find clothes. Hopefully with an objective in mind, he could put this behind him. After all, there was someone he still had to find and answered that must be unearthed. The spartan eyed the table housing his weapons, knowing he would feel better once he was armed. His sense of purpose, of duty, that should be a suitable reminder.

It was then as he looked to the table, that he noticed the doors to the room were ajar.

The spartan glanced towards the opening, bewildered that he had not heard. His anger must have blinded him. That was not right; he should not have let it get that far. But he was unused to lacking the presence of control. He would have to...

Noble Six finally noticed the woman standing in the doorway, and the spartan reeled as if struck by a physical force. Certainly such an unexpected sight proved just as disorientating as a blow to the head. He could not believe his eyes, could not allow himself to hope what he saw was true; to trust that she really was standing right there in front of him. It had seemed as if an eternity had risen and fallen since he last saw her. He knew he was not the same man he had been when he left.

Vibrant emerald eyes glistened with emotion as they gazed upon his maltreated figure, his suffering as visible on his skin as it must be to the empathic nature of her species. She trembled as she took a step forwards, a cerulean paw reaching out for him across the distance as if there was some great gulf forcing their separation.

That was when he realized.

The vixen was real. Because in his mind he could never imagine the fear he could see in her eyes as he looked upon him. 

She had seen... she knew....

The spartan's borrowed strength left him and he collapsed as his leg once more lost the ability to carry his weight. And for the first time since he had awakened, he wished for a return to unconsciousness.

Fate did not abide him.

 

*****

 

She felt a concavity in her soul that she had not felt for more than three years, an utter sense of desolation that ravaged her emotions with merciless cruelty. She did not want to believe what she was looking at, her naïve denial overpowering in its desperation as she clung to the hopeful notion that her eyes were lying. It had to be a harsh trick, or an even more vicious lie. She would have preferred that to... to this.

It struck her with a profound despair that even the events of Fortuna had failed to incite within her. In those days her affection for Noble Six had been new and experimental, but even then when she thought he had been killed, she had felt utterly devastated.

But in the end, he had lived. Surely he was not absent of injuries most would consider serious, but he had shrugged it off and had been able to walk away under his own power, if only temporarily. Not a few days later he had woken up and it appeared as if nothing had changed, except by the grace of the spirits, he shared her affection. And for a while, till she entered this room, till she was made witness to what laid before her, she had believed that there was nothing in this universe that could ever truly hurt him.

But when she looked upon the ravaged remnants of his bloodstained and broken armor, at the evident suffering he had been subjected to at the unendurable burden he remained unyielding was his alone to bear, she was ruined. Krystal bore witness to the price of his adamancy.

She traced a paw across the distorted cerinian hieroglyph etched into the fragments of a greave, the ancient rune partially stripped from the metal, awash as it was with the saccharine fluid that had been cut and beaten from his body.

The vixen wanted to cry, but she had no more tears left to shed, her muzzle already damp with grief. She was not sure how long she had stared at what remained of her paramour's armor, but she was aware of the promise she had broken. The female fox had made an oath to herself the day he had left on his mission, to be strong for both herself and him. She swore she would not cry any longer, that she would aspire to inherit the strength of her lifemate.

But this... this was far more than she could ever have prepared herself for.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, corded muscle underneath the furred appendages squeezing her tight with just enough strength to show how much the other person cared. A feline muzzle set gently upon her shoulder as its lips opened to emit a whisper.

"I'm so sorry Krystal. I... I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't help him when he needed me. I... I failed."

A poignant sense of raw guilt and internalized suffering slammed into her thoughts from close range as the lynx clutched her tightly and appeared moments from tinging her own eyes red. Krystal wanted to hate her. She had trusted Miyu to help Six, to be there when he needed support.

But... as she looked to the armor, she knew that there was nothing the feline could have possibly done to prevent this, and that unlike herself, the cat had been forced to bear witness, helpless to watch as he suffered. Krystal however, was unremittingly and profoundly grateful that she had been there with Six in his moments of suffering, that he had not faced this ordeal alone.

Instead the vixen placed a gentle kiss on the feline's cheek, forcing a note of sincere appreciation from her lips despite how hard it was to feel it. "Thank you, for being here with him. I know it must have not been easy." She smiled uneasily. "You did not fail, Miyu. I am sure there was nothing you could have done against this. I heard what you faced at the relay station, what it was he fought. That was something beyond your experience, beyond any of ours."

Krystal turned away from the table, forcing herself to bury the burgeoning thoughts of Six laying broken upon shattered asphalt, bled dry in a pile of monstrous corpses as he choked on his own blood. She looked to Miyu, embracing the feline passionately, simply glad that she was safe and well.

The feline winced as the vixen pressed against her tender chest, but considered a little discomfort far worth the show of affection. She glanced past the vixen to share a look with Fox, knowing that something had changed since they last saw each other.

His eyes were tired, and his shoulders slightly hunched as he gradually came to grips with the true weight of his command. Seeing them here, she knew the battle had to mostly be over by now, which meant the aparoids had been beaten back, but she wondered at the cost. From the vulpine's appearance it had to have been a price he was not ready to bear.

But when had the universe ever cared if they were ready?

She had almost cried herself as she watched Krystal weep over the armor. However unlike her dearest friend, she had already expended her own grief in private. Right now Krystal needed her to be strong, especially now that Six...

Her breath hitched for a moment as she fought to control herself.

He was alive still, and that the only thing that mattered. But until he could once again assume his duties as the vixen's pillar of strength, she would have to be the other female's confidant. Just like old times... She considered with a wry and empty smile.

It had been a few minutes, but Krystal finally felt controlled enough to pull away from the lynx, her muzzle peering over the feline's shoulders to the door guarded so zealously by sentries. The vixen was not sure why they were so resolved, but she allowed herself to believe it was because of who they were protecting.

She failed to produce a grin bereft of melancholy.

Noble Six always did have a way of making people feel important. To him, every life that was not his enemies was something he would die to defend. So she supposed it was no surprise that his particular set of ethics had instilled such devotion in the common infantry. It must have been humbling to realize a warrior of his caliber and lineage would go to such inconceivable lengths to safeguard his fellow soldiers.

"How... how is he?" She asked hesitantly, looking to the feline still comforting her with a paw on her shoulder.

"He's..." The cat began before she was quieted by an explosion of noise that silenced the entire room.

The air was torn apart by a deep echo of inarticulate rage that reverberated through the guarded door, and the walls shook soon after as something crashed loudly from within. The noise rose and fell, but not for a moment did it falter. Words could not describe the pure fury, the tangible violence...

As if a wild animal had awoken to found itself locked within a cage...

Miyu let out an exclamation of surprise as Krystal nearly dropped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. The feline caught her, but noticed the wild desperation in the vixen's eyes as she looked onwards, her ears flattened tightly to her skull. 

"Such anger... such desolation..." The murmured incoherently as she studied the entrance, cautious fear and rampant concern warring across her conflicted visage. 

The lynx looked back to the other members of their team, noticing the disconcerted and worried expressions as they listened to the pure violence emanating from behind the doors. Even the guards shared that look as they both took a step back from their posts, rifles unconsciously half raised.

"So much pain...." Lingering on the insight of those three words, the vixen reaffirmed her stance and lifted herself back to her feet, resolve hardening her pace and pushing her forwards as she flung open the doors. Never, in all the wonderful time she spent with Noble Six, had ever felt him so broken, so torn by unspeakable agony and unimaginable remorse.

For the first time since the met, his soul had been laid bare in its entirety for her abilities to perceive, and all she could feel was a profound sense of torment that had nearly taken her legs out from underneath her with its overwhelming power.

The vixen stepped inside, her fretful eyes roving across the bedlam sprawled about. The entire room had been upheaved, scattered chairs, some broken, some flung to the corners of the storage area, supplies littered the floor, dropped from racks that had been cast to the ground with hateful intent.

Amidst this refuse of despair, she caught sight of Noble Six, the human pronouncing his fury as he punched his fist through a metal table. His entire body resonated with impending violence and frustration. Even from this distance she could taste its intensity. The vixen struggled to restrain her own rising anger as the powerful echo colored her thoughts.

Krystal was shaken, never before having seen Six abandon composure like this. Of everyone she had ever known, he was by a large margin the most rational, the most in control of his emotions. Nothing had been able to shake him from his stoicism, not even her injuries had entirely removed him from his core desire to adhere to his rigid disposition.

But this...

She watched as the incoherent rage that had driven him to such madness, departed his body in a measured trickle that took form in a breathless sigh that stooped his shoulders with misery, his body ceasing its conflicted turmoil.

Within moments the unusual emotions she sensed from him had vanished, so suddenly that she might have never believed they were there if she had not seen it with her own eyes. She stood rooted to her spot as the spartan turned towards her. His irises, usually full of driving energy, were dull and muted as he scanned the room, the direction of his gaze traveling to the table right next to her, and then within moments, upon the vixen herself. She matched his attention with an unbalanced tenacity that for the first time since they had met, he did not reflect, feeling her eyes water as she looked upon his beaten carriage in greater detail. His poise was of a man who had only just realized that fate had bested him, and the fiery resolve within his crimson vision had been all but extinguished. 

In that brief instant of recognition the world stopped moving. 

Spirits... what had they done to her spartan? If the situation had not been so gravely serious, she would have undoubtedly blushed at his nude body currently laid before her in all its tarnished magnificence. Instead it allowed her to witness the extent of his injuries in flawless detail. So much of him was bound in gauze that she could have mistaken the human for an unfortunate burn victim, and if not for the red tinge on the dressings, she might have had difficulty in telling them apart from skin that was of a greater paleness then she was accustomed to seeing.

Krystal felt anger burn fervently within her, this time its origin entirely her own. This was not fair, and the vixen seethed at the sight before her, at the injustice that had been forced upon him. Why did the gods take such pleasure in tormenting Noble Six? Why was it that he endlessly put himself in harm's way to protect those weaker than himself, only to be beaten and cast down?

Why was no one else strong enough to help shoulder his burden?

When she looked upon him in this moment, to the horrible way the world treated him, all she could see was the male that slept at her side every night, the individual that had made her protection his life's duty and her happiness his greatest pleasure. She saw every shared meal, every warmhearted conversation, every time he peered out from behind the heavy curtain of his enduring facade to allow himself to be more than what he told her his people wanted him to be. Krystal could see what this universe had done to the kindest person she had ever met.

And even if the entire universe turned its back on him, if fate wished to see him condemned for his past transgressions, then she would ensure that he would not face this abuse alone. Noble Six would always and forever have her there right beside him, no matter what it was that destiny threw against them.

The vixen reached out to him, shaking as she took in just how much he was hurting right now, how he had suffered in her absence. She saw his need for solace, for someone to comfort him and tell him that he was going to be okay, that he did not have to bear the coming days locked within isolation.

The spartan collapsed. His expression reflective of someone who just didn't know what to do anymore. It was that sense of loss and defeat that finally allowed her tears to reemerge as she rushed across the room to share in his despair, random boxes and piles of debris scattering as she forged a direct path to him.

Krystal arrived just in time to slide against him, the vixen pressing her shoulders against his front to prevent him from dropping entirely to the cold and unforgiving tiles. She wrapped her arms across his chest as tightly as she could without agitating his horrific wounds, her paws scarcely able to touch as she stretched them over his prodigious musculature. His furless skin was cool and clammy to the touch, yet the pads on her fingers and palms could detect a slight feverish heat lingering just beneath the frigid surface.

She could not speak, despite the endless placations she so dearly wished to lavish upon him, her vocal cords bound and constricted by the rigid chains of her sorrow. For the first time she did not know what to say, could not produce the right words to make his hurt go away. The vixen raised her muzzle to stare into his harrowed features, great lines of tension and hardship etched deeply into his stony expression.

And for a moment, a span of time that lasted the length and breadth of a hummingbird's heartbeat, she could only remember that one event so long ago when she had first seen him awaken from his once habitual night terrors, his mind still racing with the difficult memories of his life before they had met.

Her hold around him shifted, pulling away from their tender embrace as she traced her paws up his sides, retreating from underneath his arms as she lovingly brushed her way up his torso to clasp them around his jaw, the warmth and familiarity of her touch soothing the conflict trapped inside him.

The spartan, weakened both in mind and body from his numerous trials, offered no resistance as she gently guided him to lower his head to hers, the vixen pressing their temples together as she matched his stare with ardent intimacy she hoped would remind the spartan of just how much she cared for him, her viridian irises projecting her intent where she knew words would only flounder and fail. 

It was an exchange of true passion that was more powerful, more profound, than any measure and length of words could ever hope to match. She loved him, would do anything, surmount any obstacle, shoulder any burden, if it meant that he could have a chance at living the life that had been taken from him. Just as she knew he would offer all that he was and all that he would ever be, to her in service. He believed in her ideals even if he did not understand them. It was that belief in her, his faith in her, which helped the vixen even now, retain her own conviction that there was still a future, despite all that she had seen in the last few hours that spoke against it.

These were truths she knew they were both aware of, indeed that they often considered on a habitual basis. Noble Six may have been a human, and he may not possess the same empathic nature she bore as the sole inheritor of her race, but he seemed to carry an innate understanding of all sapient life that even she remained unaware of. For a man who appeared outwardly, entirely divested from society, he could be remarkably perceptive.

She would have told him in that moment, just how much his life meant to hers, how she was better for having known him, and how the universe was brighter for having created him, if not for the understanding that he was intrinsically aware of how she perceived him.

It was only her intent to serve in this moment as a reminder.

And she could see, from the animate light that glimmered behind his rubicund eyes and the strength that returned to him as he grabbed her tight and pressed her softly to his chest, that she had succeeded.

If the Aparoids had hoped to break Noble Six, to shatter his resolve and tear him down from the inside, their efforts were futile.

A thin smile turned the otherwise dour tilt to her muzzle. The man who she loved had been hurt by their new foes, yet she took solace in her understanding of his character. And that he would not let anything dissuade him from his promises and obligations.

Unlike the Aparoids, she knew the kind of man Noble Six could be when that which he loved was threatened. Not only was he the hero she believed in, but the champion of their cause. He could motivate and inspire others to reach for their aspirations, to bolster the weak against the strong. 

She knew, even in that moment as he held onto her, broken and confused, that he would save them all. That he would simply because it was the right thing to do was just another reason that she loved him.

But now... in this moment, it was time to take him home.


	37. Cross to Bear

Chapter 35: Cross to Bear

Part 1

Fay lingered within the periphery of the procession as they departed from the storage area, her thoughts beset by troubled uncertainty. When they had left The Great Fox she had already tried to brace herself for what she knew would be waiting for her down here. She heard the sensor officer just as Fox had. She was, to an extent, nearly too informed about what had happened to her home.

Even then she had not been ready for planetfall.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she stepped off the ramp.

Her memories of better days and beautiful landscapes seemed as if they belonged to a world different in its entirety. Gone were the vast plains and leagues of industrious farmland. No longer did jungles of metal towers scrap against the sky. Only ashes and fallen spires lingered in the wake of this catastrophe. She could not in good conscience reconcile her past image with the present, did not want to believe that something so foul and sinister could befall not just any home, but her home.

She did not want to accept that her mother was somewhere down here, or the possibility that she wasn't.

The spaniel glanced past Falco's shoulder, to the weary profile of Noble Six as he struggled to maintain his wounded pride, despite that forcing himself to walk on that damaged leg must have been pure agony, and a physical impossibility. Though everyone else had been distracted by the spartan's injuries and his plight, she had enough presence of mind to skim the medical forms laid out across the doctor's impromptu desk.

And while Krystal was helping him slip into a tight fitting second hand uniform she had... 'acquired' for him from a very confused bear, the canine had perused the extensively detailed notes left by the physician.

She was not sure how the human was even conscious right now, let alone able to move under his own power with any consistent degree of mobility. A colorful gradient of afflictions had been laid before her eyes, shocking in their brutality, broken ribs and sternum, punctured left lung, internal bleeding, at least three dozen consecutive lacerations of varied size and severity, and a kneecap that was shattered into four separate pieces. While most of these had been mended or otherwise cared for, the fact he nearly seemed unaffected by such egregious injuries was what particularly baffled her.

There had also been a lengthy and hurried note scribbled onto the bottom of the last medical form, an incoherent rambling about possible ceramic ossification, increased muscle density, and retinal modification. With such substantial wordage she had almost overlooked the mention of his unusual metabolic rate. And as if only to induce further intrigue, she read another; smaller annotation attached to the paper with a dull orange sticky note, something about a neural imbalance in the subject's frontal lobe, a symptom caused by the introduction of a certain unidentified chemical.

Even in its frenetic brevity, there had to have been at least eight individual paragraphs that went into great detail beyond her limited understanding of biology. Whatever it was, it had the doctor either very excited, or extremely alarmed.

For Fay, she just considered Noble Six a little more peculiar than usual.

Something had changed for him during his time on this planet. He was... distant, even more so than was customary of his personality. Outwardly he gave the impression of trying to sustain a far off conversation. His focus constantly wandered, and if not for Krystal's guiding paw and his roughly corralled position at the center of the formation, Fay was certain he would have wandered off incidentally.

She would attribute this change in character to the trauma of his experiences, but she knew him far too well to be so careless in her observations. There was more to what happened to him here on Katina then was visible to the eye.

That was however, beyond her skills of deduction. Krystal and Miyu were the only ones that could help him right now. His wounds were too fresh, his emotions still too raw, for the canine to offer any meaningful support to him right now.

Besides, she had her own problems to deal with.

The spaniel could only pray that her Mother was still alive, and as much as she wanted to find her, Fay dreaded to learn the truth.

*****

Six struggled to pay attention to the events preceding his return to the Starfox team. In truth he could hardly focus on his surroundings, let alone the people in them. Everything was just so... distorted. With trying to stay standing on his broken knee, and martialing the scattered flurry of his thoughts, the spartan could hardly rely on himself to stick to a straight line. Had he bothered to dwell on this, he would have been humiliated to be seen in such a compromising light, not only at his injuries, but at his deplorable state of dress. The uniform he had been lent was splitting at the seams, and he could feel the draft at his back from the hole cut into the pants. Nevertheless the fight was, for the moment, concluded, and he was once again with the team.

He did not have to deal with this alone.

Krystal stayed by his side during this time of confusion, and he was immensely grateful that she had come back to him, that they were together once again. The vixen's presence banished the hollow feeling in his chest; as much as she proved the guiding light he needed to keep his mind attuned to the present. Concentrating on the warm and soothing sensation of her presence brushing timidly against his consciousness gave him the direction he needed to keep his darker thoughts at bay, reminded him of his resolution. In a moment of rarity her intrusion did not bother him in any volume.

Miyu was there as well in a more physical capacity, the spotted feline persisting in the periphery of his senses to gently nudge him when his body began to stray. Sometimes she would linger at his left side, momentarily helping him bear the burden of his injured leg.

This was enough to make the spartan think, and perhaps he might even have laughed sardonically given any other situation than what was current.

It was a unique feeling to be carried aloft on the support of others. For so long it felt as if he singularly shouldered the weight of the universe and all of its woes. He had never considered there to be any other possibilities. And while it was true that there was a multitude of scenarios and complications that his companions could not possibly be equipped properly to confront, just knowing that there some hings he did not have to endure alone, was blessing enough for him in these troubled times.

Noble Six was not quite so sure he could have survived his latest battle without Starfox. Physically, he might have walked away; perhaps even in better condition than he was now. But mentally? In the scarred scape of his mind?

If not for Krystal pulling him out of his coiling despair, or the supportive and humorous words of Miyu to put his mind away from it all, he was certain he would have fallen into the madness that so patiently haunted the fringe of his volatile personality.

He had always been aware of his mercurial temperament, even so, long before he was pulled from his training on Onyx.

His instructors had seen it, both during field exercises and how he comported himself amongst his fellow initiates, or rather his strict avid avoidance of them. Undoubtedly that was the express reason ONI had taken such keen interest in his development.

Even now he could not reason whether or not his disconnected character was more a hindrance than an asset. It had helped him survive his training, and the years that came afterwards, and it was his greatest advantage on the battlefield. Or so at least it had been. Such a way of thought was not suited for his life anymore, and yet if he did not control himself so severely he feared what he might accomplish if he were to, even temporarily, submit to his aggression, or other ardent emotions.

In such a frame of mind he very nearly abandoned Krystal on Fichina, and almost, on instinctive reaction, killed Miyu during their assault on the asteroid base. His volatility, for all it did to enhance his strength and combat ability, inhibited his elevated cognition. But for even that he could not afford to simply let go, nor would it be possible to simply forgo such a core aspect of his personality as if it were some unappealing piece of apparel. It was as much a part of him as he now considered Krystal and Miyu to be. He would have to learn to refine his bellicosity, hone it as one did a blade, sharp, and yet agile enough to strike appropriately.

The war on Katina had served, if anything, as a conflict to establish clarity. For as little as he knew about the Aparoids, he had learned one thing.

He could not stop them.

For all his skill, for all his immense capability, he was yet but one man, just one spartan.

To defeat them alone was a statistical impossibility.

However he was not alone. There were yet those - who while not the augmented super soldiers of humanity's finest - were just as, if not more staunch in their resolve to abate annihilation. Commander Ivanova, The members of Starfox, Lieutenant Colonel Bill Grey, all were individuals of steadfast fortitude, capable of respectable feats of bravery and ability.

And while they were not human he could see in them the same tenacious spirit that so relentlessly drove humanity to rise in the face of adversity, who would not submit to the whims of destiny, no matter what it railed against them. There was much to be admired about the races of Lylat, for within them they carried the same ideals, hopes, aspirations, and beliefs of mankind at the height of their power.

The spartan only wished once more that fate had been kind, that humanity could have encountered not the zealous wrath of the Covenant, but the concurring hearts and minds belonging to the denizens of Lylat. Would he have lost everything he had attained with Starfox to alter history, it was a price he would have been glad to bear.

For the trillions of lives lost in that war, for the untold misery and despair of an entire civilization, there could be no price too high to accept. He would have borne that without complaint.

But fate had not been kind. The Human Covenant War occurred, and in that conflict he had been displaced to whatever time and location he now found himself. Here there was another war that echoed all the tragedy of the one he had forcibly abandoned. Yet here there were people that he loved, and could not allow to be lost to such repulsive abominations.

There was no heart, no soul within the march of the Aparoids. They were machines, more so than even he, despite whatever biological components existed within their construction. And as machines, they fought with emotionless calculations, those that died in their war of extermination nothing but integers and percentages upon their tables and charts. They warred as he once had so long ago, in the ways of ONI. Such an association he could have sorely done without.

A cold intelligence existed behind their actions. He had witnessed it himself in his last engagement, a guiding force hidden within their seemingly savage and aimless armies. Those creatures he combated were example enough of the drive behind this menace... and the ramifications that were incurred when that control was severed. Through this loss, was in fact the inspiration for victory.

He might not be able to put an end to their armies, break their resolve or shatter their morale.

But their leadership?

That was something he could destroy, and in fact precisely what he had been trained to achieve.

With this new goal offering him the resolve he had found so hard to attain amidst the memories of his recent defeat and the disarrayed wanderings of his tangled thoughts, Noble Six felt reinvigorating strength return to his weary bones and burning muscles. His body may be broken. But his will? That was something no outside force could ever hope to best, not when he had those who reminded him why he would fight and continue to fight regardless of the outcome or the odds.

He had his entire life to atone for the mistakes of his past.

And he did not intend to waste it.

*****

Unlike Fox had hoped, the war on Katina was not entirely concluded as he had first wished. True, with the defeat of their navy and the losses they suffered at the hands of Noble Six, Aparoid forces had withdrawn from cities all across the world, but as they were coming to learn about their new adversary, there would be no negotiations or suing for peace.

Four days had passed since the fleet's arrival, and Katina was not yet liberated.

The cybernetic creatures had retreated and marginalized their crusade, but the campaign of extermination was not over. There were still thousands on the planet. What's more the Aparoids still had leadership, and with it, a guiding aura to maintain the discipline of their remaining armies.

Bill had told him about the walking machine, the towering command and control vehicle that the CDF survivors had failed to take down no matter what desperate assault they had thrown against it.

But that was with a battered and broken army.

The full might of the CNDF had been brought to bear, with Grand Marshall Pepper personally involved in the deployment and activation of relief forces. Even as Fox had spoken with Bill on their arrival, CDF army units had been ferried down to the surface to assist in the hunt for the remaining Aparoids.

It was a fight they were not winning as handedly as they would have liked, especially with Noble Six unable to participate, though Fox knew he would offer, regardless of the severity to his injuries. The vulpine was adamant in his orders for the supersoldier to remain uninvolved, that being one of the few demands he would not relent with in regards to the human warrior. Nevertheless, without the spartan's significant contribution to carry them into victory as he had so many times in the past, they were having great difficulty in securing it.

Fox grimaced and struggled to resist the desire to succumb to his exhaustion as he studied the tactical holo-map arrayed before him. Tired eyes tried, and failed, to focus on the multitudinous icons of troop positions and the bright blue streaks of supply lines linking the holographic interface together in web-like chain.

"Gods..." He muttered under his breath, brushing a paw across the bridge of his muzzle to try and alleviate his fatigue, even temporarily. "This is a disaster."

"Yeah... that sounds about right." Bill's voice wearily concurred from across the table, the canine imitating much a similar poise as that of his friend. The two of them had been pouring over potential strategies for days with little rest or reprieve.

It was not entirely his place to be a part of the oversight for the campaign, but given his unique position and experience, Fox was, depending on one's frame of reference, luckily or unluckily, there to play a role in tactical preparation.

"How can something that big be so damn hard to find?" Fox growled in frustration as he eyed the holo-map with tangible antipathy.

The entire goal of the army was to locate and destroy the Aparoid walker. Six's testimony regarding the resulting effect of the neutralization of Aparoid leadership had come as a desperately needed revelation to the outnumbered and often out maneuvered CDF forces. Though by the will of the gods, the army had not yet encountered any of the stalker variant Aparoid units that Noble Six had combated before his debilitation and provisional suspension from military action.

Fox wanted to believe this was because there were none left, that their specialized and highly lethal nature led credence to their scarcity. The tod hoped they had not found any because there were none left to be found. Miyu had told him about what she had faced, but for a brief terrifying moment, incomprehensible speed and agility, active camouflage, and extreme strength.

Most of these attributes were compatible with his understanding of Noble Six's capabilities. 

That thought terrified him.

"Last reports narrowed its position to these three possible locations." Bill voiced after a time of silence, gesturing to the trio of red dots scattered in a loose grouping on the map. "This intelligence is only a few days old, and with the net drawn around the area, chances of it having slipped past are minor."

The canine looked to Fox with careful optimism. "This is the best chance we've ever had to take it out. And with it gone that will hopefully denote the death of Aparoid leadership, and with that, the collapse of all their forces across the planet. "

The vulpine tentatively shared his positivity, after all the plan they had formulated was the culmination of many sleepless nights. "With the coordinated efforts of the fleet and local groundside units we should be able to take it down with minimal casualties."

He did frown however; as he remembered that his core team would be operating severely understrength. Six was for the foreseeable future, off roster, and so were Krystal and Miyu, who he had personally taken off duty. Like Six, but to somewhat of a lesser extent, the lynx had been wounded and it would serve her better to have a reprieve from combat rotation. And it seemed only right for Krystal to follow in that regard.

The three of them needed some time together, if for nothing else but the spartan's mental health alone. Fox had learned that it took an inordinately immense strain to affect Noble Six on an emotional level. And when they had reunited, he had seen what it looked like when he finally did snap.

It really was best for the spartan that he not spend his recovery period alone.

Fox would have been troubled himself to place that many members of his team off operations, but as luck would have it for once, he could actually make up the difference. With Katt back on the team, and an access to personnel from his ship, he could afford leniency, even in these desperate times.

For how long that was possible however...

"When does it start?" The vulpine gestured toward the cluster of green dots and triangles representing infantry companies and armored battalions. It was a huge operation, on a scale that had not been replicated since the end of the last war, several thousand soldiers and more than a hundred tanks, APC's and IFV's. When he looked at such numbers, at their troop strength and armored companies, he could almost feel confident in their chances.

Then Fox remembered the reports, and the battle in orbit, and such thoughts were swiftly dissuaded. He knew they would win this fight, they couldn't lose, not after the groundwork Six put in. But that did not mean it wouldn't hurt.

"Fifteen hours." Bill answered after a weighty pause. "Fifteen hours until this nightmare is over."

Fox nodded along with the canine's hopeful declaration, but could not help but feel that the horror was far from over. While they had been defeated here, that did not mean the Aparoids would not return, or strike at another world. The only silver lining was that they were conscious of the enemy now, and would not be caught unawares so easily a second time.

Wherever they attacked next, for such an assault was all but certain, would prove to be the true test of their forces against this threat, an honest, head-to-head battle that would set the tone for the entire war.

Fox did not know when this would occur. But he did understand how desperately they needed to win it, to show the CDF that they could in fact rise to the occasion. But that was not this day, and the vulpine needed to focus on present events that he could still affect.

Tomorrow Starfox would fly again, and when they did it would be in a conflict that had no foreseeable conclusion. He just hoped it would not have a finite ending.

*****

Against her wishes, Six did not immediately return to the Great Fox. No matter how hard Krystal tried to persuade him to see reason. Despite that she stressed his part in this battle was over, the human supersoldier refused to go back. If not for that he expressed this was to maintain a promise made to Miyu, the vixen might have become genuinely angry at him. Was she frustrated? Undoubtedly. But, as usual, she found herself unable to feel cross with him.

However, that did not prevent her heartache as she was forced to watch the spartan continue to push himself so relentlessly. The new brace around his leg eased the difficulty he had in walking, but she could still see the pain in his eyes as he pressed onwards with such unswerving determination. There was nothing she would not give to see him take even just a few days to rest and recuperate. Nevertheless, such words were not in the human's dictionary. 

The anger she felt at Fox had been greatly mitigated now that they had been reunited, and the vulpine had agreed with the spartan's suspension. She did not yet forgive him for his deceptions, but that had been a good way to start.

While the tod and the rest of the team continued to work with the CDF in coordinating the removal of remaining Aparoid forces, she, Miyu, and Noble Six were allowed the use of a shuttle to assist in their search for the lynx's father.

While Krystal would never tell the other female that she considered the odds of her father not only being alive, but still staying at her family home, somewhere in the realm of impossibility. She could not help but think it. Despite her personal reservations however, she did hope that she was wrong.

In any case she was at the least glad for the time it afforded her that she could spend with Six in a non-combat oriented environment.

The vixen tightened her grip on the spartan's arm and looked away from her wandering study of the shuttle's interior, focusing on his pale countenance with a small smile, though she was not visibly concerned, she did indeed worry for him. In the two days after they had been brought together, the human soldier held a reserved disposition. He did not speak often, mostly only to answer any question directed at him. And when in her company, which was nearly uninterrupted, he remained distantly contemplative.

Even in this moment she could see that his attention was direct inwards, perhaps dwelling over his perceived shortcomings as he was so often to do. Noble Six was a male that did not take defeat well. She had known that long before their relationship developed. The concept of personal failure was something that he struggled with incessantly. It hadn't been all that bad before. She could usually pull him out of his brooding with a few kind words or a tender embrace.

But what had happened to him on this planet had cut deeper than any event previous, perhaps overcasting even the blame he felt at the injuries she had sustained on Fichina. And she was not quite sure how to help him this time.

He was no longer caught in his internalized cycle of despondency, but he was not quite yet returned to normal either. At the moment the male was stuck somewhere in-between. Krystal could not help but think that he appeared quite fragile in his current figure. The human supersoldier towered over the common cornerian, and his herculean bulk was still dense with ironbound muscle. And yet nevertheless he seemed... smaller, weaker.

She realized, much to her displeasure, that this was because he had lost his aura of invincibility. He had fought against their newest enemy, and had been cast from his pedestal of supremacy. Yet there was a noble, gallant grace in his defeat. He may have been struck down, but he had fulfilled his duty, and returned his defeat in kind.

No matter the guilt he felt at his rout, she felt nothing but pride in him for his bravery and for all the lives he had saved at the terrible cost of his achievement. He had kept safe Miyu, Bill, and the worn-down remnants of an entire world. If only he was not so blinded by his stoic character to see this.

Finally taking notice of her attention, the spartan's eyes flickered with the faintest trace of awareness as he looked down to her, an uneasy smile offered in reply to the female fox beside him.

However she could see that his focus was not entirely there, his mind still lingering in the past.

Krystal huffed in affectionate irritation as she gently squeezed his arm. "Noble Six, you are hopeless." She declared, chuckling softly in muted mirth. Despite his predilection for dwelling on previous mistakes, there was somewhat of a welcomed familiarity in this, a reminder - if not a pleasant one - of the less complicated days, before the presence of the Aparoids.

In a small way, he had not really changed all that much, despite what he had endured he still carried himself in much the same manner as he always had. She was just glad to see that he was yet uncrushed by his encumbrance of infuriatingly pointless accountability. It was selfish in way, that the spartan felt as if he was the only one to blame for mistakes made.

To err was mortal, and depending on one's religion, so too did the gods make mistakes. Everyone had flaws. That was an inevitability of existence. Fox often tried to save his crew, his friends, from learning truths that would upset them. Fay was quick to judge and quicker to fade away in the presence of confrontation. Slippy did not quite trust others with his work and avoided personal questions like the plague. Miyu suffered for the brashness of her actions, and Falco... well there a lot of things wrong with him.

And as for herself... she was a slave to her emotions. As a cerinian, as the last of her species, she was, like most of her race had been, tied deeply to her feelings. Being empathic she was attuned to not only her own emotions, but those of others as well. She did not like to admit, but she often acted rashly when overcome by a particularly powerful rush of sentimentality.

Truly she was oftentimes embarrassed by this. As a result she had probably rushed into more than a few situations throughout her life and she might have been consumed frequently by her more instinctual whims, but that was just who she was, and it would not change any time soon. For as much as her flaws affected her life, they were also what made her who she was.

Her attunement to emotion had urged her to continue to understand and involve herself with a male who seemed to only show hate in return. Her empathy allowed her to understand the true driving force of Noble Six that he so adamantly insisted was not to be found, as if afraid to consider the ramifications of its existence.

If not for her flaws he might have never fallen in love, never met the mate she had not realized she so desperately needed.

Inversely, it was the spartan's imperfections that made him so special not just to her, but Miyu and the rest of the people who had become his family through shared hardships endured. It was his relentless strive for redemption that had turned him into a symbol that she could not only believe in, but come to love and respect.

And as much as she wished for him to change, she knew, deep down in her heart, that he would probably never stop himself from inheriting needless blame, or allow himself to finally realize that he could not be held accountable for a past beyond his ability to change. And that was okay, because it was just who he was.

All she hoped was that he would at least find peace one day, and that he would permit her to be a part of it.

Unawares as to her internal contemplation, the spartan merely smiled at the inoffensive bite within her words and pressed her closer with a fond arm across her shoulders, showing to her that, though in a small way, he had changed from their initial encounter, what seemed like years ago. And when she worried most about his future, it was moments like this that gave her hope, allowed her to believe that he could become so much more than he had been created to be.

The human may remain standoffish and withdrawn at times, but he was now more receptive to both receiving and offering displays of affection, then he had ever been before.

She earned no verbal response from her pronouncement, but the way he held her close to his chest was all the answer she needed.

*****

There wasn't much left standing of Ildaro. The elevated position offered by the shuttle's cockpit was perfect in showing the devastation that had been wrought upon the city Miyu once called home. Considered small by most metropolitan standards, Ildaro, its buildings toppled and its streets torn apart by old blast craters, appeared in its current state, even smaller than before.

The transport had set down on the outskirts of the desolated suburban town some ten minutes ago, yet the lynx had yet to unbuckle herself from the pilot's seat, stricken motionless as she gazed outwards through the viewport, at a sight that was not entirely unfamiliar.

She looked through a different, younger pair of eyes belonging to a foolhardy feline who had just graduated from school, on her way back to celebrate with her mother and father after an early morning spent retrieving a special kind of flower.

In a way the destruction before her was much the same as that which had befallen the city years ago on another fateful day much the same as the present. The foe was different, and arguably far more dangerous, but this was not the first time the people of Katina had been forced to endure such hardships. Nor, she feared, would it be the last.

Yet somehow this time it was so much harder to bear, a reoccurring nightmare nearly too painful to accept. Her experiences had shaped her personality, taught her to boldly tackle life head on and never leave an opportunity unexploited. It was why she had set her eyes on Noble Six and remained unrepentantly committed to becoming part of his life, despite the strings and difficulties attached to that decision. Of all the males she had ever met, he was the one she found the most interesting, the one most suitable for her peculiar personality and the only one worth offering herself in her entireness to. She had learned of the worrying fragility of existence when she had lost her mother, what had become a tragic lesson in opportunities lost.

She wished every day to take back all the pointless arguments she had wasted upon her mother during her rebellious teenage years. There were few things in this world that she would not have given to even gain one minute of time with her to air words left unsaid. Miyu knew that would never happen, her mother was lost to her, and now... so might her father be as well.

Things had not been quite right between them after Lyra Lynx passed away in the line of duty. There had been a... disconnection, between her and him, one that had not been resolved before she left for the academy. Her father was a male unafraid of his emotions, and he had embraced his sorrow at his mate's death with unashamed conviction. She did respect her father for that, though she just wished he could have taken the time to be a better dad as well.

They had not parted on hostile terms, but she wouldn't have called their final words particularly heartwarming. She was pretty sure that 'see ya later pops', wouldn't have won her any awards for best daughter either. Nevertheless, the lynx avowed that when she found him she would not make that same mistake again.

A large, furless hand rested upon her shoulder, interrupting her melancholic musing, and it was followed by the soothing resonance of a male voice she had come to cherish dearly in recent days, despite the varied complications he entailed.

"Are you alright?"

The unusual, but pleasingly sincere affection and concern in his voice was, to her, one of the most beautiful sounds she had ever heard, reminding her as it was, that no matter what she might find in her search, that she had the best companions she could have ever hoped to accompany her on this excursion.

The feline looked away from the unpalatable landscape outside the viewport, instead taking solace in the welcomingly familiar and enticing features of the spartan's scarred, and yet aristocratic visage. The gritty trials of his past and the unique genetics he had inherited from his parentage made him quite easy on the eyes, if one found heavy scarring and unrelenting stoicism attractive.

Fortunately, she most certainly did.

"Me...?" She asked, feigning her typical nonchalance with some strain. He had seen her in some of her weaker moments, just as she had seen him during his. But she did not want him to see just how much this had gotten to her this time. Right now she was supposed to be the tough one. Six did not show it, at least not in a way most might see, but he was not entirely himself right now. And she figured it was time that someone took the mantle of enduring responsibility he felt so powerfully about maintaining. "You know me... I'm right as rain." She managed to say without revealing too much of the inner conflict roiling within her. 

She watched with waning tenacity as the spartan's lips pursed in the slightest shadow of a wry smile, and she knew in that moment that she could never retain a false front to someone so astute in discerning even the minutest intimation.

So rather than continue to attempt to deceive a person who was nigh impossible to mislead, she instead unbuckled herself from her seat and accepted the open armed gesture he held out for her, deciding that for the moment, she would let him be what he was just so damned good at. The lynx flagrantly sank into the spartan's uncharacteristically tender embrace with unapologetic fierceness, resting her muzzle strongly against the comforting solidity of his chest. Solid. Immutable. Adamant. Such descriptors were seamless when used in conjunction with Noble Six. Gravity and light could invert, water could suddenly turn into air and yet no matter how tumultuous the universe came to be, she could always count on Six's reliability as an absolute.

It was a trait of his she was becoming increasingly thankful of as the world seemed to slowly descend into insanity by the day if not the hour. She knew she could always count on him to be there for her, such knowledge was worth more to her than any amount of worldly treasures or mortal gains.

Krystal may have greater claims on his heart, and the lynx would probably never fully come to terms with that, but if she were only ever to have him in this way, as someone to stand at her side when she needed it most, then she would be grateful for even that. For as much as he laid claim to his supposition of detachment. She had never met anyone with such an aptitude and capability for feeling and comprehension of others and their feelings. His passions were strictly controlled, but she had learned he became this way out of necessity, to protect himself from the demands forced upon him by his callous superiors and the unbelievable rigors of his lifelong military career. Experiencing emotions, for the spartan, was a raw and arduous experience, where in which he unleashed the pent up frustrations he had absorbed into himself for years at a time.

Miyu knew deep in her heart that there was no one on this planet or any other that could possibly understand and empathize with suffering as capably as he did, that was to say at least of those who did not benefit from empathic abilities like Krystal. That he was capable of reading others so well without such surreal skills was nothing less than a miracle.

And the feline would admit to acting selfishly in this moment of his compassion, lengthening their embrace for longer than what was perhaps appropriate considering the task asset ahead of them. However, eventually, and with much reluctance, she finally stepped away from him, offering the spartan a grateful, heartfelt smile as she playfully danced her tail across the pliant material of his borrowed uniform.

"Thanks..." She mumbled weakly, unable to say anything else in fear that she might start a tide of impending waterworks or in some other way embarrass herself.

"Of course." The spartan answered, cutting an unsurprisingly stoic figure in that moment as he stood so assured in his hegemony that one might have forgotten how grievously he was injured. Though, if one was observant enough, they could see that his chest pained him greatly, and that breathing still came to him difficultly. "I made a promise to do right by you Miyu. And I have no intent to become a liar."

If she had been incapable of sophisticated word and thought before his newest utterance, she could now be considered apoplectic with embarrassment at his gallant words, whether they had been valorously contrived or not, they sounded no less like the lyrical fashion of a noble knight transposed from a child's fairytale. Though she knew any fable the spartan might have come from would certainly not be suitable for the ears of young children, or even most mild-mannered adults. His origin was from a place cruel and deprived of even the concept of mercy.

Yet if given a choice on whether to believe which to be truth, she would have liked to put her faith in the former, rather than the latter. But the world was not a kind place outside of children's stories. While she may have wished a kindlier beginning for her spartan, that was but more than an inane contrivance that had no bearing on harsh reality.

Miyu would forever be enthralled by this male that had not allowed his past to weigh him down, at least to a point that proved too detrimental. He had not escaped it entirely, but for what he had endured, it was astonishing that he had emerged so wholly, or that he was even receptive to the idea of personal improvement or attachment. The lynx knew that could in most part be contributed to Krystal's and to a smaller extent, her own efforts, for indeed he had not been so entirely composed in his establishing days with Starfox. And she was starting to see a carefully veiled reappearance of that dread personality, much to her despair. There was a great bitterness that lay well-concealed with the spartan's recent kindly manners and unusually forthright actions. As much as he appeared outwardly undeclared, the spartan retained an acerbic resentment, a personal umbrage that was founded within his recent conflict against the Aparoids, and his subsequent injuries.

Even now, as he had confessed his unchanged determination to improve upon himself - something that held no end of delight to her ears - she could hear the slightest tone of introspective disdain, as if he had spoken such words more to reassure himself that he was still, at the least, playacting as the good person so many people thought he was.

Faced with such elusive self-loathing, she found her liking of his resolution to be somewhat tainted, and the feline's once warm smile grew shadowed as she dwelt on the grave concerns fermenting within the spartan's tortured mindset of thinly disguised contempt.

Unlike the search for her father, which she could at least treat properly, she remained wholly uncertain as to how she could help the human through his troubled thoughts. This was more than his usual, and somewhat frustrating, self-deprecation. A new darkness had grown and was now festering inside him, one she was afraid that neither she nor Krystal would be adequately equipped to handle, something that would not turn the spartan against the team, but himself, the one foe in this universe that he could not fight.

"I must ask again if you are feeling well, Miyu." The spartan's voice intruded upon her concerned musing, his expression softening with the barest trace of discernable worry. And for a moment she could almost believe that she had imagined it all, her mind simply feeding off her excess fears at an uncertain future. That her fairly pessimistic brain was merely conjuring such notions rather than accept that there might actually be a pleasant future in store for her.

But such pessimism was not misplaced, and she could see more in his eyes than in his face, that the spartan had still not forgotten how close she had come to death on his watch. There was a distinct air of protectiveness lingering over him as he studied her closely, a desire to keep her safe that bordered on the unfamiliar with how open he made it. She would have enjoyed the attention if not for how much it concerned her.

That she had almost died must have stricken him deeply, even deeper than nearly losing his own life, what she knew already he held little personal worth in. She had noticed recently, since the battle, he had not let her, or Krystal, from his sight for overlong. He always kept within a few paces from either of them, close enough to react to the unexpected, even with the injuries he had sustained. Such possessiveness might have been alarming, had she not known him as personally as she did. In truth she found his increased protective drive somewhat charming. Though she worried he strained himself needlessly. 

"Yes, don't worry about me, just a little introspective at the moment. It's still hard to believe that I'm home, well at least with whatever's left of it." She deflected the truth of her worry as she looked to the viewport once more with a sad sigh. Her return to Katina so far had been little more than a series of sharp disappointments and lingering sorrow.

To her side the spartan remained as silent and stoic as ever when his affinity for words failed him. There was nothing he could think in that moment that could possibly alleviate her sadness. He was not equipped for the very human response of offering consolation, at least not adequately enough given the severity of the occasion and his own inwardly positioned disturbances. In his failures he felt as if he had no right to offer comfort. Had he been a better soldier, had he stayed true to his designation as a hyper-lethal vector, he might have been able to do more for this world and its people.

He understood to a degree that his introspective culpability was pointlessly irresponsible and borderline egotistical, but on some fundamental level he could not shake the notion that he could have done more. It was ONI that had taught him to think in such absolutes. Even now he struggled to cast off their psychological chains, after what felt like years of separation from mankind. And his mind flung instances of his actions before the court of his thoughts, to dwell on it in seeming perpetuity.

He had been unable to repel the Aparoids unaided.

Failure....

His negligence had nearly cost Miyu her life.

Failure...

He had allowed so many to die when he might have been able to save them.

Failure...

Noble Six was a failure.

But Spartan Beta-312... was not.

312 was responsible for more than two-thousand confirmed mission kills against the insurrection.

312 had assisted in the orchestration of a government conspiracy that had broken the back of insurrectionist sympathizers and supporters with the suspected terrorist bombing of Cyrus IV.

312 had forced Covenant forces to retreat on multiple battlefields, ensuring the interim survival of at least four colonies.

312... by ONI's calculation, was a critical success.

Noble Six knew him as a monster.

Beta-312 had killed men... women... children, any and all that ONI needed removed to ensure political superiority. He had targeted families of vocal dissidents within the government and silenced countless reformists.

He been part to and accessory in so many senseless deaths and inner office intrigue that when he used to think about it, it had made him physically ill to consider.

Yet the 312th spartan of Beta Company was the better soldier, the better killer. He would have slaughtered through the legions of Aparoids, he would have brought death to their entire civilization with little thought on whom or what was standing in his way. And... he would have let Miyu die.

312 would not have given thought to the ridiculous notion of family.

312 would not have befriended aliens, creatures that from experience had only ever harmed humanity.

312 would not care who died in his campaign, for their lives were ultimately irrelevant to the grand design.

312 would not have fallen in love, such a notion was more a weakness than strength.

With all the impressive capability and tactical sovereignty of that persona, Six would not dare allow it to reemerge, unless when faced with the utmost need, a situation where death was the only other recourse.

For he worried that if it came back...

It would not fade away a second time. 

He feared it as one did a loaded gun pressed against their temple. He feared the siren melody of its disturbingly tempting song, afraid that he might succumb to the simplicity of such an existence. Everything was so much clearer when he was unclouded by sentimentality. Receive ones orders, and then simply carry them out, no need for excess interaction or the inanity of pointless morals. He did not need to concern himself with the safety of his fellow soldiers, nor would he allow any attachment to interfere with his objectives. Such detriments had no place on the field of battle.

What, however, he was afraid of the most, was forgetting Krystal and Miyu, and just how important they, and Starfox, had become to him. He was frightened of the prospect that he might one day wake up to discover that he simply did not care for them anymore.

Such a fate would be worse than any death he could devise.

And the spartan avowed, with grim resolve, that he would do anything and everything to prevent this from coming to fruition.

*****

Krystal's fur was warm to the touch, the vixen's paw wrapped tightly around his free hand as they entered the outskirts of the city, following the remnants of Ildaro's main road, the asphalt thoroughfare upheaved by devastation that must have been wrought in the beginning days of the planetary siege. The local star was at the zenith of its rotation around this world, the baking heat an unusual sensation for the spartan who was more accustomed to the autonomous atmosphere inside his Mjolnir.

Having lived most of his life in a temperature insulated environment, the spartan felt moderately uncomfortable underneath the sun's harsh rays, and was fairly concerned that his pale skin would burn sooner than it adapted to the change. But that was, at most, a negligible issue at the moment, the soldier far more focused on the deserted cityscape. The Aparoids may have retreated in order to consolidate their forces, but that did not mean that they did not still have scouting patrols combing through the desolation.

This was currently his greatest worry.

In his condition he could not properly defend either of his companions. With his mobility questionable and his offensive capabilities greatly diminished, all he had left to rely on was his expert marksmanship. For that he had his rifle slung across his shoulders, tied to a makeshift sling. The weapon would be suited for long-distance engagements, as least until its ammunition was expended. There had been no opportunity to rearm and resupply from The Great Fox before their excursion, which did not sit well with him. But Miyu had been eager to set out as soon as possible, assuming smartly that the hunt for her father could very well be a time sensitive task. So in their haste to depart, he had only been able to grab whatever supplies could be spared. Other than his rifle and a few grenades, was the blaster pistol he had been gifted by Miyu, the comparatively small handheld energy weapon resting firmly in the hand unoccupied by Krystal's tentative paw.

Though the vixen's attachment to his person was limiting his combat effectives, considering how she was still averse to straying too far from his side, he deemed it as a necessary, if temporary, accommodation. Furthermore, should hostilities break out, Krystal's closeness would allow him to ensure her safety.

Six would never say this aloud, but if he were to compare the resiliency of the two women, Miyu would be the indisputable contender. This was not a fault on anyone's side, or even a deficiency of character, but simply something formed by circumstance.

The spartan spared a brief moment to shift his wary scrutiny away from the rubble and destruction around them, to examine the feline that strode just ahead.

Only mildly inconvenienced by her injury, the lynx had thrown a CDF breastplate over the armor he had given her, to supplant the piece she had lost during their last battle. Festooned with a small arsenal of weaponry and carrying herself with a grim forbearance, the woman cut a rather intimidating appearance as she trudged onwards, her helmetless visage bearing a dark aspect as she undoubtedly brooded on what they might find in this ghost of a city.

Six did not remember much of the destruction that befell the world he had called home as a child. His memories of his mother were all that he had not forgotten in their entirety, and even then it was a struggle to recall even the smallest of details about her. The closest he had ever come to remembering her completely had been the dinner he had shared with the team so long ago, and that had only offered a glimpse. Personally, the catastrophe that befell his homeworld had not carried any weight over the years, the trauma dissipating under the continuous ordeals he sustained in his career. He had been far too occupied with the war to think much on it. But the man was not so foolish as to think anyone else would react similarly.

As a spartan he underwent intensive conditioning that altered his ideologies and preconceptions in a way that divested him of what could be considered average social etiquette. Yet that had not prevented him from realizing this, nor was he incapable of perceiving when those around him suffered at the hands of psychological torment. If anything he was well-versed in distinguishing the signs in his fellow man.

And considering the strange similarities to humanity shared by the cornerians, and after a time spent studying their radically different biology, if not their racial mentality, he was fairly practiced in the understanding of the cornerian equivalent of the human condition.

All of this extraneous thinking was honestly overcomplicated, making everything far more convoluted then it need be, another of his many philosophical thought experiments that he used to keep his mind constantly occupied. It was a habit he developed years ago to entertain himself in-between deployments. He supposed that, in the end, all his musing could be condensed into a simple, easily understood concept.

Miyu was emotionally torn apart by the events taking place around her. The feline walked through the destroyed remnants of the world, the city, she called home, hoping beyond hope that she might find her father, and that he was still alive to see her.

Six knew he did not, and likely would not, truly understand what it was she currently endured. He, as a spartan more than a human, was inherently unqualified to understand, though he did recognize the disparity separating them in this moment. Where she was horrified by this tragedy, he was filled with a simpler, but no less expressive, sense of impotency. He was a spartan. He had been explicitly created to prevent such a scenario. Never in his life had he encountered an obstacle as bold in its obfuscation as that which the Aparoids presented themselves as. He could fight them, and he was prepared with a plan to secure victory. Yet he had never before felt the lingering foreboding of defeat, never had the thought of failure stung so bitterly.

Victory would be harder than ever to achieve now that he lacked the proper armor and armaments to combat this adversary. He knew not if his Mjolnir could be salvaged, and he feared that even if it could be, by the time it was returned to him it would be too late to matter.

Nevertheless he would fight regardless of the odds. He did not need again assert why he was unwilling to accept defeat. The answer was as apparent as the vixen that walked beside him and the feline that weaved the streets of her broken home.

"I can feel the sorrow haunting this place." Krystal murmured softly as she drew closer to his side, the vixen's troubled stare roving through the piled refuse and scattered debris. Six had grown used to the sight many years before he set foot on Katina, but he doubted Krystal or any of the others were so jaded. However if the war with The Aparoids carried on for as long as he suspected it would, such naivety would not last.

Regardless of that consideration, he allowed his gaze to follow hers, his countenance hardening at the evidence of his failures. Had he been stronger, acted faster, he could have stopped this, or at the very least saved more lives than the pitiable amount he had.

"So many died here. I... I can hardly bear to think about it." She shuddered, and he felt her paw tighten its hold upon him twice over. "Why would the Aparoids do this? What cause could they have to sow so much misery and death? I don't understand."

Six sighed, his exhalation carrying a knowing shame that no manner of change could ever free him from. "Sometimes monsters are only ever as they appear to be... Sometimes there is no reason, least none that you might ever comprehend. Be glad that you cannot."

She was far too kind of heart and noble of soul to ever understand the true depth of depravity that existed in the universe. He knew not why the Aparoids would go to such lengths to destroy a people so starkly divorced from the darkness that plagued most civilizations. But he did know that their justification, whatever it may be, would never be good enough to confuse their cause as just.

"Was Reach like this?" The vixen asked, turning to him with an unreadable expression, her eyes displaying an unwavering tenacity to know what it was he had seen, to hopefully understand further what it was he had dealt with in his past.

The spartan, somewhat unnerved by the steadfast attentiveness of her viridian irises and off put by the suddenness of the personal question, nearly took a misstep on a pile of jagged slag he had been traversing.

Balancing himself carefully and adjusting the knee brace's fasteners, he considered her question, recalling everything he had experienced since he and Miyu had crash landed on this planet weeks ago.

"In a way..." His neutral reply was fostered with the desire of maintaining some degree of ambiguity. That was a time he did not mind remembering, but he was not entirely encouraged with the idea of speaking about it. The situation on Katina did in a way emulate Reach, yet the factions and beliefs of said factions were quite literally alien. Had Reach come under attack from an alien race? Yes. Was that similar to Katina? Yes again. But the similarities stretched only about that far.

And he would ensure that.

"Reach fell. This world shall not. I will not allow it."

He would deny history's replication.

The vixen seemed to become thoughtful then onwards from his response, the female fox appearing to contemplate his words with sincere solemnity if her scrunched muzzle was any amusing indication.

Six was not used to people putting so much belief and weight into his words, or at least with as much fierce conviction as she displayed whenever they talked like this. It was honestly a liberating experience for him. Dwelling on his endless gratitude for her existence was something that would never outlast itself. And he wondered at what he had done to deserve her. With his past he most assuredly did not.

"Can I ask you something else, Six?"

"Of course." He turned to her with a terse smile, noticing that she had once again adopted the expression of deep thought. Such a look he had begun to consider 'cute', if he was using the parlance properly.

"It's something I asked you a long time ago, and now that we are... so well acquainted." The white patches of fur on her snout darkened a light shade of pink. "Well I was hoping you would have an answer."

He silently motioned for her to continue.

She nodded, more to herself than to acknowledge him, perhaps self-consciously in a bid to bolster her confidence. "Do you miss your old team?"

Instinct demanded from him that he deter, or otherwise react negatively to her question. But the spartan forced such an animal reaction away from him as he thought instead of an answer to give her. He had long since passed the point where he would not tell her of things he considered personal. In fact he considered the idea of tell her to be somewhat therapeutic. Compared to an ONI assigned psychiatrist, this was by far the lesser of two evils.

"Sometimes... I do." He admitted. "But not like you miss your family I imagine."

"What do you mean?" She asked, visibly perplexed.

"One could say that I miss their utility, more than I miss them as individuals. I did not know Noble Team half as well as I do Starfox. We were spartans, we functioned effectively as a unit, and there were times when their presence was even companionable. But it rarely if ever expanded further than that. A team of spartans is a different kind of organization. We accept the impending losses long before they happen. Some, like Carter or Jorge, could be less formal about it. But ultimately attachment was loose and subject to variation."

Six paused in the realization that he was probably going off on an unwanted tangent, and made sure to scrutinize the environment. He noticed that Miyu had drawn closer, and appeared to now be listening to their conversation as she guided them deeper into the city, and Krystal showed no outwards sign of being un-invested with his longwinded reply. With no suggestion that she wished him to stop, and appearing even more so that she wanted him to continue, he did.

"For us, death was an inevitability, not a possibility. We had been taught to separate ourselves from our fellow soldiers to ensure unclouded judgment during operations and prevent a conflict of interest, so to return to the heart of your question and avoid a lengthy and inane explanation, I do miss them, but I do not morn them." 

That was, in a way, a partial truth. He did miss Jorge more than the others, and for more than his 'utility'. Six felt as if there was a lot he could have still learned from the older Spartan-II. And the threat of The Aparoids would be far lighter if he had the support of the giant supersoldier, but that nothing more than a wishful thought.

Nor did he tell her that if he lost Starfox, he would more than mourn the loss.

It would utterly destroy him.

He could not continue as he used to, would rather die than suffer a relapse into his previous state of being. Having undertaken such new and fascinating experiences, he did not think himself capable of returning to such a dreary, desolate routine. His eyes had been opened to the prospect of a genuine future beyond what he had been created for. And the spartan would choose death over blindness.

It was his responsibility to ensure that would not happen. 

He looked to Krystal, such thoughts returning his focus to those who had made him care. The cerulean vixen, her smile shifting slightly from complacent to concerned, appeared somewhat apprehensive as she studied him intently. It was clear to him then in that moment, as it had been when she first started to ask him questions, that her inquiry was born of something serious she wished to ask him. And yet while he was perceptive, especially when it concerned her and Miyu, he was not omnipotent. Nevertheless he was not overly concerned. He didn't think there was anything she could ask him that could catch him off-guard.

"What do you think about..." She interrupted herself, the female fox appearing hesitant as a weary sigh slipped past her smile. "What are your thoughts on... parenthood?" She concluded with a slight wince.

Six did not take his next step.

The spartan paused in the middle of the ruined street.

He looked down to his left, his expression unreadable as he met Krystal's eyes with his own. Half a minute passed as he evaluated and reevaluated what she had said, his brain struggling to comprehend the immensity of what she asked from him.

Him... a spartan... a parent to a child?

She asked if he could be a father to a child?

She asked...

Him...

A father?

He could not choose if he was confused, faintly interested, or utterly terrified.

In the end he decided he was all of these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a very long time since I posted on here so I thought I'd finally get this up to date. Hopefully to any readers, you were able to stomach the bad writing and horrible spelling errors of my earlier chapters, and anything that may have come up during the transition. I'd like to believe I've at least improved a little bit since then. Comments and Kudos are of course appreciated. 
> 
> If this takes off as well as it has on other platforms, I'll think about moving some of my other works onto here as well. 
> 
> Drake

**Author's Note:**

> All rights belong to their respective creators (343 and Nintendo).


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